“Get off the damn road! You remember what a road is, don’t ya!?”
It had been quite some time since Gary had seen so many children in one place. It wasn’t just the children either. It was everyone else too. People that basked in the sunlight with cold glasses of lemonade. People that went for jogs and waved to their neighbours as they passed. Housewives that gossiped on street corners about who was doing what with who. It was almost normal. Gary shook his head in disbelief.
“This is incredible. How many people are living here?”
“In total? About 1,300 at last count,” said Gus.
“Aren't you afraid that the angels will turn you against each other like they have with all the other communities?”
“If we believe the worst before it's happened then they've already won.”
Gus brought the truck to a stop behind the parked Dodge Challenger. Karina got out of the Dodge ahead of them and was instantly crowded by the group of children that Gus had almost run over with his truck.
“Karina! You said that you'd paint our faces for us when you got back.”
“I know. I'm a little busy right now guys, but we can do it later.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. Run along now.”
The kids shouted a synchronised 'Yay!' and ran back to their game of tag.
“Kids seem to love you,” said Darnell. “Ever think about having any of your own?”
“In another life maybe.”
“Why not this one?”
“You know why.”
“I do, but I'm an optimist. I always like my chances,” he said with a sly wink. “You never know, you could be looking at your future baby daddy.”
Karina shook her head and walked away.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
Gary jumped down from the truck and immediately went to work introducing himself to the population of New Sodom.
“Hi, I'm Gary Chambers,” he said to a passing jogger as he pressed the flesh. He then turned on his heel and stepped into the path of a woman pushing a baby in a pram.
“Gary Chambers, nice to meet you. What a lovely baby you have.”
He shouted over to a group of teenagers that were sitting on a grassy hill across the street.
“Howdy! My name is Gary.”
“We don’t care,” one of them shouted back.
“Marvellous,” said Gary with a wide smile. “Simply marvellous.”
A one-legged woman hobbled over in Gary’s direction with the use of her crutches.
“Gary Chambers, at your service, ma'am.”
“Beth Thompson. I handle the logistics around here. Forgive me, but I wasn't expecting to see any new faces today.”
“I decided to bring him in,” said Darnell. “I figured that Remy would be cool with it on account of Gary here thinning the Governor’s herd.”
“Hell of a shot,” Gus added.
“I see,” said Beth with a sceptical eye. “We'll see what Remy makes of him. Don't get too comfortable just yet, stranger.”
“I'm just happy to see people that aren't trying to kill me for a change. It sure is a mess out there.”
“You have a talent for understatement, Mr. Chambers. Cormac, did you manage to get everything on the list I gave you?”
“We had to venture out a little further this time and went as far as Baton Rouge. All the surrounding areas have been cleaned out for a while now. It took some doing, but we eventually got everything, plus a little extra.”
“Show me.”
Cormac opened up the back of the truck with a metallic clang and climbed up inside. The captive policeman shouted something through his mouth gag, but the words came out muffled and unintelligible. Wanda, the pigeon, fluttered about her cage, startled by the sudden noise.
“As you can see, we've made a couple of new friends along the way. Remy is going to be real interested in what Officer Dipshit here has to tell him. Wait until you hear about what Karina did to his friend. That girl’s crazy. As for supplies, it's all here. Sanitary items are towards the back, canned foods, bottled water, propane, a heap of candy and shit, you name it.”
Beth had stopped paying attention. Her eyes were drawn to a particular pallet at the back of the truck. One that Cormac had not listed off.
“What is that white stuff?”
“What white stuff?”
“You know what I'm talking about. I know it's not flour.”
“That's because it's not flour. It's cocaine.”
“Cormac! When I was a congresswoman, I fought to keep stuff like that off the streets, and now you drive it right through the front gate. Shame on you.”
“Been a while since you've been in Congress, Beth. Hear me out. The world is supposedly ending in about a week, right? We're obviously going to have a party. Who wouldn't under the circumstances? I ask you, what kind of end of the world party would it be if we didn't have cocaine?”
“No, Cormac.”
“After all I've done for you? Where's that prosthetic leg I got for you last week? I spent ages looking for that.”
“You didn't look long enough. All of the legs you bring me are either too long or too short. You'd have me hobbling around the place like a pirate. Even if that weren't the case, I still wouldn't let you keep the cocaine.”
“Have you ever tried it? Here, have a taste.”
Cormac took a knife from his belt and stabbed a bump of cocaine onto it before offering it up to Beth's nose.
“You're really trying my patience, Cormac.”
“Don’t you want to see what all the fuss is about? All the cool kids are doing it.”
Beth stared at Cormac, and he stared right back at her. Cormac was determined not to be the first to be blink. With each passing second, he could see the reluctance eroding away from the stern set of her face.
“I once tried pot in college,” she said with a coy smile.
“One small step for pot, one giant leap for cocaine.”
Beth bit at her lip and seemed to mull the prospect over.
“Maybe… maybe just once. Just to see what it’s like.”
“That’s the spirit, Beth!”
Cormac had a big shit eating grin on his face as everyone gathered around to witness Beth's first bump of cocaine. She hesitated for a moment before lowering her nostril over the white powder and snorting it off of Cormac's knife like a vacuum cleaner.
“Holy cow.”
“I know, right? How do you feel?”
“My nose feels numb. Though it's kind of nice.”
“See, that's what I'm talking about. I'm just a man with a truck full of drugs, trying to spread a little joy. So, how about that party then?”
“Fine. Have your cocaine.”
“Excellent. Tomorrow we'll try heroin.”
“Don't push your luck, Cormac.”
“Yeah, you're right. We'll do ketamine instead.”
Beth called out for Nancy, and a pencil-skirted blonde with a clipboard in hand appeared as if out of nowhere.
“Yes, Miss Thompson?”
“You're on inventory duty. I want everything in this truck counted and put in its proper place. Do you think that you can manage that on your own?”
“Yes, Miss Thompson!”
“Good. The rest of you ought to take our new arrivals to go see Remy. He'll decide what's to be done with them.”
THE BOOK OF ANGELS
The angels were not idle during the two-year countdown to Judgement Day. Sometimes you could go for weeks without spotting one, but they always came back eventually, and they always wanted something.
Sarah Taite was a nurse in a ward for the terminally ill. The phrase 'terminally ill' had started to have less meaning to her the day she heard that the world was ending. She still got up in the morning, got dressed, and went to work, but more out of not knowing what else to do than any desire to keep doing what she was doing. She would stare blankly ahead when she sat in a room with her many patients.
Mr. Ferguson with his lung cancer. Mrs. Keith with her brain tumour. All of them sleeping peacefully while she contemplated the very nature of existence by their bedsides. The angel Azrael appeared and placed a hand on her shoulder. He whispered in her ear.
“Kill them all.”
Surely Azrael was not talking about the patients. Azrael responded to the thought without her having to voice it.
“God will take care of them until the time of judgement. Living would prolong their suffering needlessly.”
Her hand went to a gold crucifix that hung beneath her uniform. She nodded her understanding to Azrael with her mouth as a stern line of determination.
“God will have a place for people like you,” he said as she grabbed the pillow. Mr. Ferguson didn't even have the strength to struggle as she smothered him. One down, fifteen more patients to go, she thought as she moved on to Mrs. Keith.
Joe Wilson drove through the unforgiving snow in search of something better. The contents of his glove compartment were as follows: One Payday candy bar, one tin of baked beans, one tin of pineapple, and a single pack of chicken flavour ramen noodles. This was his haul after a drive that had taken him many miles away from his home and family. It was not enough to feed them in the desperate times to come, but it was all that the supermarkets, corner stores, and gas stations could offer up. The whole world had the same idea at the same time, and that idea was to stock up and prepare for what was to come. He had to find more for his family’s sake, or they would surely starve.
His foot found the brake suddenly. There was a body on the road ahead of him, the snow forming mountains around its outline. Beside the body was an overturned shopping cart with all sorts of food spilled out onto the road. Joe reached for his gun and hesitantly stepped out of his car with the headlights still illuminating the scene ahead. He kept his gun pointed at the body in front of him as his feet crunched through the snow, but the body did not stir. He crouched down and picked up a box of corn flakes, giving it a shake. Empty. The pop tarts. Empty. He heard a gun cock at the back of his head.
“What have you got in that car of yours, friend?”
“Not much. There's nothing to be had.”
“Then not much will have to do. I'll take it all, starting with that piece in your hand. Slowly place it on the ground. Make no sudden movements.”
Joe looked at the body beside the shopping cart.
“Did you kill him?”
“Never mind what I did to him.”
“Please. I have a family.”
“We all have families.”
Joe placed his gun on the ground and slowly stood up, raising his hands into the air.
“Now turn around and face me.”
Joe did as he was instructed and saw the face of a desperate man, much like himself. The desperate man kept his gun on Joe as he patted him down, looking for anything of interest. Joe wasn't about to leave the situation to chance. He made his move and lunged forward with his head before the desperate man could react. The headbutt jolted him backward, and the gun fired, missing its mark, clipping Joe in the ear instead of his head. The world sang in a high pitch as Joe fell to the ground bleeding. Quickly, he crawled back to his own gun and unloaded three rounds into the desperate man's chest before he could get his bearings back. He dropped like a tonne of bricks, his blood a dramatic stain against the white snow. Joe took a moment to steady his heart and get back to his feet. The desperate man was still alive, though his every breath tasted of blood. The look that Joe gave him as he touched what was left of his ear was a cold one. One final bullet right between the eyes finished the job. The only sound after the gunshot echoed out was the persistent ding coming from Joe’s car, letting him know that he had left the door open.
Joe checked the pockets of the desperate man, but there was nothing of use. He checked the other dead man, and it was the same result. Every item in the shopping cart was empty. Nothing more than bait.
The slam of Joe’s car door let him know that it was no longer ajar, but he was not the one behind the wheel. He turned and pointed his gun, but the car was already in motion. He only managed to get one shot off into the windshield before he had to dive out of the way to avoid getting hit. The car skidded into the distance, and he fired shots in its wake, but it was already long gone.
“Fuck!”
Joe dropped to his knees in the snow, a defeated and broken man. A flutter of wings was heard, and feet landing behind him. The angel Adriel was an impressive sight with the snow-white backdrop. He placed his hands on the shoulders of Joe Wilson.
“A man who can't provide for his family is no man at all.”
“It's over. I've failed.”
“You still have breath. You still have bullets. There is time yet to turn this day around.”
“How?”
“People think they can hide behind walls and wait out the chaos, but they are wrong. The chaos is a trial that must be endured. You can be the deliverer of chaos. Show the cowards behind their walls what the world has become. Take their food as your own, and you will have God's favour. Your family will be spared any hardship.”
Joe Wilson found his feet and faced towards civilisation. Many houses had already started to board up their windows.
“Why should they have plenty when you have nothing?” the angel prodded before departing. Adriel was gone, but Joe's mission was clear. A man who can't provide for his family is no man at all. He trudged through the snow towards the first house with his ear throbbing every step of the way. He approached by the rear and climbed over the snow-tipped, wooden fence. The squeak of a swing could be heard and a child swinging upon it.
“Hello,” said Joe, putting his gun into his pocket.
The swinging ceased. The boy turned to face the stranger in his backyard. The boy was no older than ten.
“What's your name?” he asked of the boy.
“Ben,” was his timid reply, looking at the blood running down Joe's neck.
“Nice to meet you, Ben. My name is Joe, and I have a son about your age. Tell me, Ben, are your parents around?”
As if on cue, Ben's father appeared in the open back door.
“Ben, get away from that man!”
The father disappeared a moment to fetch his shotgun, but that moment was all Joe needed to grab the boy and place a gun to his temple. The father came charging out with mother and big sister behind him. The barrel of the shotgun was aimed at Joe's head.
“You're a dead man,” the father threatened.
“All I want is some food. Give me some of what you have, and I'll let your boy go.”
The father thought it over long and hard as the wind blew cold between them.
“Jill, fetch the man a box.”
The mother re-entered the house at a frantic pace, and there was a tense few minutes as Joe and the father stared each other down, daring the other to make one false move. The boy sobbed in Joe's arms, trembling with fear. A trail of piss leaked out from one of his legs. Jill emerged with a box in her hands, filled to the brim with food. She approached under the cover of the father's shotgun and placed the box at Joe's feet.
“You have the food,” the father called. “Now let Jill take the boy.”
“What's to stop you shooting me the moment she does?”
“You'll just have to take my word for it.”
Joe reluctantly let the boy go, and the boy ran into his mother's hugging embrace. Joe kept his gun on the father as he awkwardly scooped the box of food up with his free arm.
“I can't get over that fence without offering you a free shot at my back. I need you to let me out the front door.”
The father considered it, his finger tensing on the trigger.
“Fair enough. Any funny business and I'll take your head off, understand?”
Each footstep was a slow and tense crunch as Joe closed the distance to the house. Joe backed up into their home, and the father pursued him inside, his aim never faltering. Joe was very mindful of his
foot placement. One trip or mistake and he'd be dead. As Joe scanned his surroundings in the kitchen, he spotted the motherload. The box he was carrying might feed his family for a month if properly rationed, but the supply they had stocked in their kitchen could keep his family fed for a year. The father noticed Joe's wandering gaze and pointed to the front door with his shotgun.
“Keep moving.”
Joe reluctantly left the treasure horde behind and stepped out the front door.
“You go your own way now. If you come back, I'll kill you.”
The father moved to shut the front door and made his only mistake. He stopped aiming his gun. Joe put a bullet through his eye before the hinges could even squeak and charged back into the house over the father's dead body.
“You son of a bitch!” the mother screamed as she charged at Joe. She got one right in the heart. Only the kids were left. They looked at him with terrified faces and hugged each other for support.
“I'm sorry, but I care about my family more than yours,” he told them. He pointed the gun at the girl.
“I saw a wheelbarrow in your backyard. Run out and fetch it for me. I am going to take as much of this food with me as I can. If you are not back here in two minutes, I'll kill your little brother. Do you understand me?”
She nodded with tears in her eyes.
“Good. Now go.”
The girl ran to do as she had been instructed and Joe kept the gun on the boy, Ben. There was a deep and burning hatred in that boy’s eyes. Joe didn't like it. He looked to the boy’s dead parents and started to shake with the shame of what he had done.
“I'm so, so sorry. I really am. Did I tell you that I have a son your age?”
Joe backed up against the wall and sagged to the floor with his head in his hands. Tears burned his eyes and waterfalled down his cheeks.
“What the fuck am I doing?”
They were the last words he ever spoke before his brains got splattered against the wall. Ben had made a move for his father's shotgun. The recoil of the blast threw him clear across the room, but Joe was dead just the same. Ben's sister screamed as she entered with the wheelbarrow. Ben got back to his feet with a steely determination. He and his sister would have to fend for themselves now.
Killing Angels Page 3