A brick smashed through the front window, and a group of men stepped forward, clutching metal bars, baseball bats, and a crowbar. The man with the crowbar jammed it through the hole they made and began pulling shards of glass outward, then used it to widen the opening.
“You gangsters!” Mister Leotis stood up, shaking his fist. Crowbar Man was through the opening. He looked up at the sweaty man and brandished his weapon.
“It’s 9/11 or some shit, man. All this is ours.”
Diana rose from behind the counter and aimed the shotgun at his chest. “Turn around, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”
The man smiled and turned his gaze to Diana. “Aww, yes. Chicken Legs wants to dance. I like it. I’m always ready to dance.” He stepped forward and raised the crowbar over his shoulder.
Two more men stepped behind him, making a show of their blunt instruments. Fury flashed in their associate’s eyes, then a loud boom filled the store.
The two men turned their heads toward Diana, their faces spattered with fresh blood. Crowbar Man dropped to the floor, his face reduced to a barely recognizable mass of buckshot and blood. The crowbar clattered on the floor beside him.
Diana raised the shotgun, her arms trembling from the recoil, and the thrill of shooting a real gun. “Want more of this? I’ve got more.”
The men dropped their weapons, and backed away, keeping their hands up. Diana nodded and gave them permission to leave the way they came in. They watched her warily and backed out through the broken window. They hurried away from the store, then fell backward, ventilated by gunshots from the left.
Diana blanched and waved to Athena and Mister Leotis. “We have to get out of here, now.”
Mister Leotis looked at the mutilated man on the floor, and the damage to his store window. “But, this my store. I make from nothing. My life is here.”
Diana shook her head. “There’s nothing to defend anymore. If we stay here, every looter in town is going to break in, and I can’t hold them all off forever.”
Athena rose hesitantly, wary of the shotgun. “Where we gonna go?”
“Stay close to me. We’ll need supplies. Get a bag.”
The trio loaded a plastic bag with bottled water, cans of sardines, and a pack of gum. Athena shrugged and grabbed seven more. Mister Leotis emptied the register and stuffed the bills in his pockets. Diana guarded him with the shotgun, then looked over her shoulder at a small electronic device sealed in a blister pack. “Does this work?”
Mister Leotis shrugged. “Never use. Maybe.”
Diana used a pair of scissors to break the packaging open and slipped it into her back pocket.
CHAPTER 12
Diana heard running footsteps close by, and she waved her employers along to the rear entrance. Mister Leotis looked around the store in a daze, and nearly stepped in a pool of blood, but his daughter pulled his arm in time and he snapped to attention.
“My store… all gone.” His voice was low.
“This way,” Diana urged. A group of young men sprinted past the store, then she heard a skidding sound.
“Hold up, let’s get what’s in here,” said one.
Diana leaned the shotgun against the back wall, and hoisted the wooden bar down from its cradle, setting it aside carefully. She picked up the shotgun and pulled the door open. She peered down either side of the doorway, then pushed the door fully open. “Hurry, we have to keep moving.”
Athena and her father hurried through the door, and Diana saw a group of teens clambering through the hole in the front window. She didn’t want to shoot minors, but she resolved to keep the three of them safe. She let the door slam behind them and breathed a sigh of relief as the teens formed a semi-circle around the mutilated body of Diana’s would-be assailant. “Whoa, his face is totally jacked,” said one. “Yeah,” said another.
Diana led them between two buildings, then paused to determine where the blast had occurred. She saw plumes of smoke rising to her left and waved them onward. Athena looked up at the smoke and pointed the other way. “You crazy? Too much danger.”
“We want to be closer to the fire. Everyone will be running away from it and looking for trouble. I need you to trust me.”
The two looked at each other, then at her. Mister Leotis reached into the bag and tossed her a bottle of water. “We go away.”
Diana fumbled the bottle and managed to clutch it against her chest. “This way. Come on. Don’t be stupid.”
“We go away.” Athena turned her back on her and gave her the finger as she ambled away. “Bye-bye, hot shot.”
Mister Leotis looked at his daughter, then at Diana, his face showing the signs of internal conflict. His daughter was 20 feet away, and he made his decision. He reached into his front pocket and fished out two $20 bills. “For today. Keep gun, is okay.” He held out the money and nodded to her. Diana swallowed hard and accepted his offering.
“Stay off the main streets. Get to cover as soon as you can. And whatever you do, don’t go near any bridges.” She stuffed the bills in her back pocket and ran in the opposite direction. As she reached the end of the street, she heard a scream from far behind her. A group of men formed a line behind Athena and made vulgar noises at the sight of her. Mister Leotis stepped forward to grab onto his daughter when one of the group struck him with a baseball bat. He crumpled to the pavement, and Athena’s screams pealed in Diana’s ears.
She contemplated the shotgun and charging down the street to save her. Mister Leotis took another blow to the head with a wooden bat, and Diana stood her ground. The other men grabbed Athena and began tearing her clothes off as she shrieked and struggled. Diana looked down and sighed, and decided they’d have to live—or die—by the choice they made, and so would she. She turned the corner and ran toward the black smoke that streamed from behind a collection of office buildings.
As she expected, terrified civilians were running away from the smoke, and emergency vehicles were heading toward it. A group of people dressed in business attire walked in a daze along the sidewalk. Diana looked them up and down, and they looked at her, showing signs of shock. A woman caught sight of the shotgun and screamed. She ducked behind a portly man in a dark suit who put his hands up. “Don’t shoot. We’re not part of this. We just want to go home.”
Diana nodded. “Me too.”
She jogged across the street and narrowly avoided getting run over by a speeding car. She picked herself up off the sidewalk, and made her way up the street, keeping her head on a swivel for any new dangers. A police cruiser pulled up sideways on the street, and an officer got out. Diana could see that a perimeter was being set up around something; possibly the blast site. She ducked into a passageway between a shoe store and a CPA office, and stayed close to the edge, so as not to attract attention from the street.
She rounded the corner to the right and caught sight of the blast site. Orange flames roared from several of the windows, and black smoke billowed throughout. A fire engine was just off to the left, and firefighters were setting up their hoses.
The building didn’t seem especially noteworthy. She didn’t see any signs that suggested it was a government building, or any other markings except for a large 143 above the entry. The main entrance was framed in brass, and had a revolving door in the center, flanked by a standard glass door on either side. Both were propped open as the fire crews fed their hoses into the lobby. She crept cautiously forward, clutching the shotgun in one hand and her water bottle in the other.
A small group of people gathered on a sidewalk near the building, and the police ushered them backward. Diana considered her shotgun and didn’t want to be mistaken for a criminal, so she crouched down behind a row of cars and tried to get a close look at the building. A woman stepped forward from the crowd. “What’s happening? Is it a bomb?” A police officer responded only by holding up his hands and gesturing for her to step back.
A man looked up from an electronic device and looked around at the crowd. “Th
ey hit Denver too. Five minutes ago. And the President is missing.”
The crowd gasped in horror, and milled around, unsure of what to do. They shouted questions to the police at random, asking if it was terrorism, and did it mean we were finally at war with Iran. The police officer spoke into a radio and held it to his ear. “I need you to disperse and remain indoors.”
More cars pulled up, and police took to the street to break up the crowd. Commotion broke out as random updates were given by bystanders glued to their electronic devices, such as Houston having been nuked, and the White House under occupation by Russian troops. The police formed a human wall and urged the crowd once more to disperse. A man wearing a scarf over his nose and mouth sent a liquor bottle stuffed with cotton and the wick alight sailing toward the police from behind. Fire shot up an officer’s back, and she dropped to the ground and rolled around. Her fellow officer drew his weapon and shot the man through the neck.
The crowd fled in a panic and Diana flattened herself down on the ground. She slipped under a delivery van and hoped nobody noticed her as a flurry of feet rushed by. Her mind raced. She wanted to know more about why that particular building had been targeted, but she also wanted to get to safety and lay low. She reached back and patted her back pocket. She needed to contact Gabe.
After the crowd passed by, Diana counted to twenty and slipped out from under the delivery van. As she did, it bounced up and down and the engine fired up. The van sped away, leaving a bare patch of pavement where she once laid. She breathed a sigh of relief and made her way down the street. She found a tight passageway between two buildings and made her way back into a small alcove. She set her water bottle and the shotgun down and fished the ArkieTalk phone out of her back pocket. She pressed down on the power button and prayed that it held a charge. The screen lit up, and the battery indicator read close to half full.
She had memorized the call code Gabe had given her. She didn’t have a way to use it, other than Veronica’s tablet, but she was reluctant to let Diana touch it, let alone contact Gabe with it. She hoped he hadn’t lost interest in her or thought that she had lost interest in him.
After a moment, she heard a long beep and a soft voice. “Who’s this?”
“Gabe?”
“Diana? Are you okay? Did you see what’s happening?”
Tears welled up in Diana’s eyes. “I’m okay. I’m close to a building that’s on fire, but I’m fine.”
“Which one?”
“How many are there?”
There was a catch in his throat. “I… I honestly… don’t know. Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.”
“Are you sure? The police are starting to set up roadblocks, I think. Where are you?”
“Hackensack.”
“I don’t know the streets around here very well. Is that close to Halsey? Because I’m pretty sure I was just there.”
“What? No. Hackensack, New Jersey. It’s a bit north of Newark. Is that where you are now? Newark?”
“I never left, since the train.”
Gabe exhaled slowly. “Okay, it might be a little tricky getting to you. We’re going to have to figure something out.” She heard him fussing with something. “I’m getting a map up. Can you get to a street corner and tell me where you are?”
Diana looked down at the shotgun and considered leaving it hidden for a moment. On the other hand, she didn’t want to be caught without protection, after the gangs that plagued the streets around the market. She stooped down and picked up the shotgun. “Okay, give me a minute.”
There was no way out of the alcove except through the passageway that led her there. She squeezed through the opening and kept the shotgun close to her leg, hoping it wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention. She walked quickly to the corner and looked up. “I’m at Washington and Linden. But I found a good hiding place close by. I have to get off the street.”
She walked quickly toward the passageway and ducked in as a police cruiser drove by. Once she was back in the safety of her alcove, she allowed herself to relax a little. “Gabe, what’s going on? Did you say more buildings are on fire?”
There was a long pause, then Gabe’s voice came on the line, barely audible. “Diana, the whole country is under attack.”
She slumped down against a brick wall. “Attack how? The Russians? Iran?”
“What? No. Maybe. I really don’t know what this is. Every ten minutes, it seems like something else blows up. I can’t keep up anymore.”
“Oh my God,” she said and wiped tears away. She felt her legs go numb, and she pulled the shotgun across her lap.
“Diana, I’m coming to get you. Keep your phone on, and close, okay? We’ll figure this out.” The connection terminated, and she looked at the glowing screen. She set the phone down and clutched the shotgun. With her back to the wall, at least she’d see them coming if anyone tried to get to her who wasn’t Gabe.
Whoever they were.
CHAPTER 13
Diana paced around the alcove a bit to keep from cramping up, and to burn off some pent-up anxiety. Nobody had ducked into the passageway that led to her hiding place, to her relief, but she didn’t expect anyone to take notice of it, let alone test where it led. Just the same, she guarded against complacency. Another blast shook the ground, and Diana ducked down out of sight from the passageway. She heard screaming and panicked crowds running down the sidewalk close to her sanctuary, then gunfire and more screams.
Metal crunched on metal as cars collided, and the sound of glass breaking as looters smashed windows in search of anything they could lay their hands on. Diana was aware that she fell into that category, having seen Athena’s fate from a safe distance.
She saw the shotgun leaning against a wall across from her, and her water bottle standing beside it. She risked exposure, but the sight of the gun would attract unwanted attention. She hopped to her feet and snapped them up, then realized the phone was lying there too. She activated the status window. The battery level had dropped to 30%. She wanted to switch it off, but she didn’t want to miss Gabe’s call. She slid the device into her back pocket and returned to her new waiting spot.
She leaned the shotgun against the wall beside her and took a swig of water before capping the bottle and setting it down. She patted her front pockets and felt the reassurance of the shotgun shells she had taken from Mister Leotis, then smacked her forehead. She felt fortunate that nobody had given her any trouble since the market, as the spent shell was still in the shotgun. She visualized the schematics she had seen in the Good Book and tried to remember how each type of long-barreled gun worked. She slid her hand along the barrel until she found the release, then opened it to reveal the spent shell. She pulled the spent shell from the shotgun and tossed it aside. She fished another shell from her left pocket, slid it into the barrel, and snapped the gun shut. After leaning it back against the wall, she sat and pressed her back against the wall.
A cacophony of screams, screeching tires, sirens, gunfire, and breaking glass wafted down the passageway beside her, and she squeezed her eyes closed. She wasn’t sure if it was best that she was sheltered and therefore ignorant of whatever was happening beyond the alcove, or if she would be better served by seeing it all, and knowing how much danger surrounded her, versus phantom fears.
The Good Book had quite a bit to say about Doomsday. It contained instructions for building a shelter, creating a water purification system, stocking it with non-perishable foods, equipping it with a way to receive word of the outside world, and, under certain conditions, how to communicate with it.
Her father insisted that she learn to read it on her own at a young age. She wondered now if it was because he couldn’t read all the words. She remembered him substituting “and that” frequently for entire paragraphs when he would read it to her. When she learned to read on her own, it became a whole new book, with loads of previously untold information now available to her, but her limited vocabulary kept a fair amount of the material beyo
nd her grasp.
As per the Good Book, she was doing a barely passable job of surviving Doomsday, in that she was still alive. She had no provisions except for her phone with a steadily draining battery, and half a bottle of water. Gabe would come for her soon, she assured herself, but she knew on a visceral level that he would not have a survival bunker loaded with supplies and ammunition.
Maybe they could find such a place together, she hoped.
She rubbed her temples as she squeezed her eyes shut. Was it Doomsday? Sure, there were explosions, and Gabe said something about the entire country being under attack. She knew next to nothing about current events and politics except for what she was told or picked up here and there, such as overhearing conversations at Stickler’s or glancing at the television when the news was on. She didn’t recall hearing talk of war. Who, or what was behind it?
Tears rolled down her cheeks. Somebody said Houston had been nuked. She had never been there, and she found herself grieving the fact that she never would visit, not for a long time, according to the Good Book. It said the radiation would keep people away for at least 50 years, maybe more, whatever that meant. It saddened her to know that there was suddenly a place in the United States that she could never go, through no fault of her own.
Her eyes snapped open, and she reached for the phone. If they could nuke Houston, what was stopping them from blowing up New York City? She tapped in Gabe’s call code once more, and said, “Come on,” under her breath until Gabe answered.
“Diana?”
“Gabe? Where are you? Is New York still there?”
“Huh? Yeah, it is. I’ve been looking at it for the last hour and a half.”
“What? Why? I thought you were coming to get me.”
“I am. I’m stuck in traffic. I thought the roads would be emptier with everyone staying indoors. Instead, it’s a major cluster.”
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