For once in his life, he was making sense. At least to himself. And Bill and Rodney were hanging on his every word. He was the source of information, which made him feel somewhat an authority figure. Granted, Bill and Rodney weren't the sharpest tools in the box, but they were listening to him nonetheless. Up the street, the woman left her car behind and neared the store on foot. Jeremy was the noticed her while Bill and Rodney faced the opposite direction. “So how do you know this stuff then?” Bill asked.
“I just read about it, that's all,” Jeremy replied.
“I read the paper every day, and I ain't heard a thing about what you’re saying,” Bill said.
“You aren't going to hear about it in the Charleston Gazette—“
“I read The New York Times, thank you,” Bill interrupted.
“Well, you probably aren't going to read about it in there either, frankly,” Jeremy said.
“So you're the expert now, huh?” Rodney asked.
Jeremy shook his head. “I'm just telling you what I think. If you have any other ideas, go ahead and share them.” “It's a brownout,” Bill said.
Jeremy scoffed. Before he could reply, the woman entered their circle. She was slightly heavy set and middle-aged. Her red, tangled hair was a mess, no doubt from her exhaustion from the heat-ridden day. Her square-rimmed glasses were slightly titled at an angle on her freckled face. “Can one of you boys help me? I need to call a tow truck,” she asked, between heavy breaths.
Rodney looked her up and down. “Get in line, lady,” he belted out with a laugh.
“It's the strangest thing,” she said, reaching into her pocket, “My cell phone's not working at all. It's completely dead, just like my car.” She pulled out her cell phone, an older model by Jeremy's estimations, and showed it to the group.
A dead cell phone was intriguing to Jeremy, but something else from afar had gained his attention. Miles ahead from where the woman ventured, Jeremy saw people walking down the two lane highway towards the store. He suspected that this was the only stop for miles, as he had done the same thing when his truck broke down. But maybe, just maybe, there was a small chance he could still get his truck started amidst all the confusion. Perhaps it was all just a series of coincidental circumstances, mixed with the “brownout” that Bill believed responsible for the lack of power. Jeremy's wasn't sure. Only time would tell.
“What's the problem with your car?” Bill asked the woman.
“I was just driving along, and next thing I knew I was on the side of the road and my car was dead,” she said. Bill shifted one foot across the ground kicking a pebble across the road, followed by a heap of tobacco spit from his mouth.
“We can go inside and try the phones if you want. Powers been out, along with the phone lines for the past ten minutes or so,” Bill said.
The woman expressed relief upon Bill's offer of assistance. She rubbed the sweat from her brow. “Oh thank you so much. I really need to get back on the road as soon as possible,” she said.
Bill led the woman into the store. Rodney looked around for a moment, then walked towards the front entrance of the store. “I'm comin' in too. I need a soda or something,” he said.
Once the shop entrance door closed, things got quiet. Jeremy stood next to Rodney's station wagon thinking. He needed a plan. A purpose. Someway to deal with what was going on. The silence helped him think. It helped him realized that through all of this, he was going to be alone. In close proximity, glistening in the sun, was Rodney's radiator hose. Its length was far more elaborate than Jeremy had estimated, but it still looked relatively simple to remove. He just needed a screwdriver to remove the clamps at both ends.
There wasn’t toolbox nearby, so Jeremy had to improvise. He set his bag to the gravel, opened one of the front pockets, and retrieved a Leatherman Gerber multi-tool. He flipped through the components on the tool and soon found the right one that he needed, a flat-head screwdriver bit. Jeremy glanced ahead. The few approaching drivers, moving dots at the end of the road, were still at least a mile or two away. He looked to the store. The group was still inside, probably making small talk and cursing the fact that the phones were still out. Jeremy stood over the engine, and prepared his Gerber. He worked the first screw diligently; twisting and twisting until he could get it lose. The tool kept slipping from the screw, as Jeremy had to continually re-align it.
He felt the process too long, and feared that he wasn't going to be able to disconnect the hose in time. The more thoughts of doubt that entered his mind, the sloppier his method became. Jeremy steadied his hand, concentrated and was able to get the second screw off with little resistance. He pocketed both screws and removed the clamp holding the hose on the radiator end. Then he worked the other side of the hose. This was a little more complicated, as Jeremy had to lean into the engine in order to detach the hose from the car's engine. He set the Gerber into the first screw and turned. His movements were awkward and it made him long for an actual screwdriver, but it was better than nothing.
He heard the front door swing open, but remained focused. Next followed the pop and fizzing sound of a soda can opening. Jeremy suspected that the person exiting the store had to be Rodney, though his back was turned. Sweat streamed down from his forehead and into his eyes, as nervousness took over. He knew it was only a matter of time before Rodney—
“Hey, what are you doing?” Rodney shouted.
Jeremy twisted the last screw, but was unable to catch it in time. It rolled down into the engine and into oblivion. Jeremy clutched the hose—still warm—and twisted it back and forth, trying to pull it from the engine. Rodney dropped his soda as his pace quickened towards Jeremy. “I said what in the hell you think you're doing with my car?”
Jeremy glanced back and saw Rodney only a few feet away. His face was flush with anger, and even for a large man, he moved fast with rage growing in his eyes. One final pull and Jeremy managed to yank the hose from the engine completely. The force caused him to stumble backwards, but not before he hit the rod that held the hood open from its seated position. The hood slammed shut. He held the hose up in one hand, and extended his other hand in a defensive gesture towards Rodney. “Look, I just need your radiator hose, okay? I don't want any trouble,” he said. Rodney continued lumbering towards him, fists raised. “Well, you got trouble,” he said.
Rodney swung with intensity at Jeremy, knocking him to the ground with one quick punch to the face. Jeremy didn't even know what hit him. The radiator hose fell next to him on the dusty ground. Rodney stood over Jeremy with balled fist, ready to strike again. Jeremy held his right cheek with one hand, and attempted to push himself up with the other hand. Rodney noticed the radiator hose and looked at Jeremy utterly perplexed. “The hell you want with my radiator hose? Damn no-good thief. You drifters is all the same. Take what you can from hard workin' people like me,” he said bending down to retrieve his hose.
With his face in striking distance, Jeremy raised his right leg and thrust his foot squarely in Rodney's sagging jowls. Rodney fell backwards and onto the ground...hard. His net hat flew into the air and landed beside Jeremy. Rodney squirmed around trying to get back on his feet. The kick to his face left him heavily dazed. He clutched his face, holding it, as if trying to protect himself from another blow. Jeremy rose to his feet. He bent down and picked up the radiator hose. He was fairly certain that things didn't need to be escalated any further. Rodney was subdued, Jeremy had the part he needed when—
“You stop right there!” Bill shouted from outside the front door of his shop holding a .22 caliber rifle. He had it aimed squarely at Jeremy. “Don't think I won't shoot,” he shouted.
Jeremy slowly raised his arms, still holding the hose in one hand. “Don't do anything stupid, Bill. Rodney and I just had a little misunderstanding that's all,” Jeremy said in his friendliest tone.
“That's bullshit,” Rodney said as he rose from the ground, rubbing his cheek, “This little prick tried to steal my radiator hose then he k
icked me right in the face.”
“Yeah, after you tried to kill me,” Jeremy said back.
With his rifle aimed, Bill shifted his focus back-and-forth between both Rodney and Jeremy.
“Why would you take another man's radiator hose?” He asked Jeremy.
“I needed it, that's why. I was going to pay him for it, but he just came at me. Blindsided me, like an animal,” Jeremy said.
Rodney shook his head and walked over to Jeremy, staring straight into his eyes. “You're full of shit, boy,” he said.
“Rodney, get away from him,” Bill pleaded.
“You weren't gonna pay me shit, you little prick. What the hell am I supposed to do without a radiator hose? I'd be stranded,” Rodney continued.
“No more stranded than you are now,” Jeremy said.
Rodney swung at Jeremy again, clipping his jaw. Jeremy jumped backward as to avoid the full blow of the punch, giving his adversary a clear opportunity to pummel him. Instead, Jeremy quickly gained his footing and moved from Rodney's aim.
“Both you stop it now!” Bill shouted.
Rodney ignored Bill's plea and circled Jeremy with viscous intent. “My entire life, I've had to deal with thieves. No-good lyin' degenerate thieves. I ain't gonna put up with it anymore.”
Rodney charged at Jeremy and tackled him. The men fell to the gravel below and rolled next to the tailgate of his station wagon. “Stop it!” Bill shouted. Rodney swung his arms rapidly trying to hit Jeremy anywhere he could. Most of his attempts, however, failed. Their grunting and heaving was a bizarre spectacle in itself. Bill lowered his rifle trying to figure out a way to end the fight. But he felt powerless to do anything. “I'll kill you!” Rodney shouted.
He nearly got Jeremy into a headlock, but missed his chance as Jeremy dodged the grip of his arms, punched him in the gut, and sat upon his chest, pinning Rodney's arms to the ground with his legs. Rodney's flustered and panic-stricken face angered Jeremy even further. If life after today was going to be an act of true survival, then Jeremy was going to make a stand right there. He raised his fist, ready to make a bold and finalizing punch, destined—he was sure—to leave Rodney unconscious. Rodney looked at Jeremy in a quick flash of fear. However, his helplessness didn't deter Jeremy, he thought it pathetic.
“That's quite enough right there, son!” Bill shouted running towards the men. “Take a shot at Rodney and I'll shoot. Just try me.”
Jeremy lowered his fist in defeat. Rodney's messy, gray hair was in his face as he gasped for breath. “Now go ahead and get off him,” Bill commanded as he caressed the trigger of his rifle. Jeremy looked around to see Bill, only a few feet from, aiming with clear intent. Jeremy hung his head down and stood up, freeing Rodney. “That's good, now go 'head and move away from Rodney. Keep those hands in the air where I can see them,” Bill continued. Jeremy complied and moved to the front of the station wagon, holding his hands up. “Figures. The power goes out and the looting starts. Just like clockwork,” Bill said to himself.
Rodney lied flat on his back for a moment, still catching his breath. “You okay?” Bill asked. “Yeah...yeah I'm fine,” Rodney answered. He sat up, glanced at Jeremy and rose up from the ground while patting the sand and dust from his jeans. “Better watch that one, he's a real sneaky son-of-a-bitch,” Rodney said to Bill. Bill didn't respond, but instead looked to Jeremy. “Okay, son. I got two options for you. Wait here until we call the police, or give Rodney back his radiator hose and be on your way.”
Jeremy looked at the radiator hose clutched in his hand, then to Bill. “I'm sorry, but I need it. I'll pay him fifty dollars for it,” he said. Rodney laughed with a snort. “Okay, one hundred dollars,” Jeremy said, causing Bill to join Rodney in the laughter. “You must really, really want that radiator hose,” Bill said with a smirk. He then looked to Rodney. “What do ya' say Rodney? Fifty bucks seem reasonable enough?” he asked.
Rodney continued to pat his overalls. “You see, Bill, the problem is...” Rodney said, pausing. He moved to face Jeremy, who still had his arms in the air. “The problem is that the only reason he wants to pay up is that he got caught. If I had been inside for another minute, this little punk would be gone, along with my radiator hose.”
“It's one damn radiator hose. Just sell it to the boy,” Bill pleaded.
Rodney stared into Jeremy's eyes with no intent of backing down. “It's the principle of the matter,” he said, eyes gleaming, “I don't care if offers me a million dollars, he ain't taking my hose.”
“You lost your mind?” Bill laughed.
Rodney placed his hand on the radiator hose and pulled it from Jeremy's grip. “I don't do business with scumbags. Keep your money,” he said.
“I'm going to get that hose one way or the other,” Jeremy said.
“Oh yeah?” Rodney asked.
“Yeah,” Jeremy answered.
The two men stared at each other and everything went quiet again.
“Don't start this again,” Bill said.
“You must think you're some pretty hot shit?” Rodney said, in a near whisper, to Jeremy.
“No. But I'd be smart enough to know a deal when I see it. So why don't you quit being a backwoods dumbass and take the money,” Jeremy said.
Rodney punched Jeremy in the gut. It was a swift and unexpected move that nearly sent Jeremy to his knees. “Rodney!” Bill yelled, “You keep that shit up and I'm going have to call the cops for real this time.”
“No need, Bill. I'm gonna take care of this one myself!” Rodney shouted.
Jeremy crouched and rested his hands on his knees, gasping for air. The hose fell to the ground, once again, and Rodney picked it up. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he said.
Jeremy leapt and punched Rodney in the face, causing him to spin backwards. As the hose fell from his grip, Rodney responded to Jeremy with a punch in the face. Both men stumbled around, held their soar faces, and shook their hands rapidly in the air to ease the pain.
Rodney lunged at Jeremy again, striking him in the face, now a second time. Then came another swing, but Jeremy dodged it. Rodney panted like a wild animal, ready to attack, but was considerably older and more physically out of shape than Jeremy. And to this, Jeremy was certain Rodney would tire easier. Rodney swung again, and missed. He had yet to exhaust himself. Rodney took a step back and charged at Jeremy like a bull, tackling him again. The two men fell against the hood of the station wagon, creating a loud thud.
Jeremy felt himself pinned. Sharp pain entered his back, not only the force of their fall, but from the intense heat of the aluminum surface. Rodney put his hand around Jeremy's neck and squeezed. Jeremy gasped. His windpipe was sealed. Nothing was coming in or out. With every breath, he felt more constricted. Rodney had large, meaty hands, and there was no removing them. Jeremy's repeated punches to Rodney's sides did nothing to relinquish his grip. Rodney was nearly frothing at the mouth. Spittle dripped down onto Jeremy's face. Disgusted and without air, Jeremy moved his head from side to side, squinting, trying to get one last breath. He placed his arms around Rodney's wrists and attempted to remove his grip. No such luck.
Bill rushed towards the men, rifle held high. “I warned you two. I warned ya!” Bill shouted.
A loud blast filled the sky as Bill fired into the air. The abrupt sound startled both Rodney and Jeremy. The woman from the Jeep exited the store, trying to figure out what had happened. She saw Bill holding a rifle, and the two other men at each other’s throat. She gasped and backed herself up against the wall, as if trying to remain unseen.
“Shoot him!” Rodney shouted.
“You calm down, you big dumb animal,” Bill said.
Rodney loosened his grip around Jeremy's neck, air finally entering his lungs. Jeremy heaved and coughed violently. Rodney's weight still held him against the car.
Bill moved cautiously towards the men, aiming his pistol in their direction. “I can't believe you two idiots are willing to kill each other over a stupid radiator hos
e. I just don't understand it—“
Just then, another blast sounded from the rifle. An accidental discharge. Rodney's head blew apart at the top. Fragments of skull and brain matter fell on top of Jeremy, much to his disbelief. The crushing dead weight of Rodney's body was felt instantly. Jeremy had no idea what had happened. All he knew to do was to push. He was covered in a wet, sticky flow that continued to run onto his chest from Rodney's large, open head wound. Jeremy heaved and pushed with all his might causing Rodney to roll off of him. His lifeless body slide down the car hood like a rag doll and onto a messy pile on the ground. Jeremy wiped his face, and examined his shaking hands. They were covered in a darkest red he had ever seen. The ringing continued in his ears from the gun blast. Nothing, so far was clear. He pushed himself from the hood, and noticed Bill standing there, rifle in hand, with a blank shocked look.
“I didn't—” Bill mumbled, “I didn't mean to.” He looked at his rifle in disbelief, examining the barrel in wonder. “In all my life, I ain't had anything like that happen.”
Bill seemed like he was talking to himself. His words were rambling, repetitious, and nonsensical. The woman screamed. She then covered her own mouth as to quiet herself. Neither Jeremy nor Bill cared or took notice to her presence. Jeremy looked at Bill then on the ground to Rodney. The hood was covered in blood. Rodney's face—or what was left of it—no longer held any emotional rage. He had been silenced, exterminated. Jeremy walked carefully towards Bill with his arms up. The rifle was no longer aimed in his direction, but Bill still clutched it, searching for answers on why it had discharged. “Stay calm, Bill. I'm not going to hurt you,” Jeremy said.
The End Boxset: Postapocalyptic Visions of an Unstoppable Collapse Page 14