by J. D. Bishop
CHAPTER 11
TWO WEEKS EARLIER . . .
Becky plopped down on the couch with a sigh, frustrated and angry and horny. She had just gotten off her cell with Jeff. He told her he was too busy to come over tonight. He must have been fucking with some bitch. Becky seethed with jealousy. She hadn't wanted to accuse him outright and make him angry with her, so she had sullenly kept her feelings quiet.
She decided to send him a text.
Becky: I'll be thinking of you, sexy.
She waited for an answer. The minutes ticked by. She looked at her pink Hello Kitty watch, watching as the little digital numbers went up to fifty-nine before changing back to zero again and again. Five minutes passed with no response. She angrily tossed her phone to the other side of the couch and grabbed the remote. “Fuck him. If he thinks he can find better, he can damn well try.”
There was nothing good on the TV as she flipped through the channels, just a bunch of reality shows about people Becky would be embarrassed to be related to or know. Hell, some of them were just an embarrassment to the human species as a whole. Maybe humans were circling the drain.
She heard a key turning through the front door as her dad, Jimmy, came home from work. Her father worked for the government, but that was all Becky knew. Becky and her mother weren’t supposed to know about his job because it concerned national security, terrorists, and those sorts of things. Becky never really asked him any questions, content with just being provided for and having the material things she wanted in life. Her dad tried to be there for her too, but his job kept him away for prolonged periods. She didn’t ask why. His mom had learned long ago not to ask him, as well.
She remembered one night when her mom dared to nag her father, accusing him of cheating because of his late-night outings and times where'd he be gone for days at a time. He sat her down and showed her a video of where he was one day and the things he’d had to do, things that by any measuring stick were monstrous. Her mother had turned completely white. From that day on, she never bothered him about where he went again. That was enough for Becky never to ask him about anything concerning his job. It was a don't ask, I'll never tell policy around their house. The one time Becky had asked her mom what she’d seen, she shook her head. “Nothing you ever want to see, Rebecca. I guess sometimes to fight monsters, you have to become a monster yourself. I’m just glad he leaves that at work.”
"Hey, Daddy," Becky called to him, shifting and sitting up. She was wearing her short shorts, the ones that she loved to tease Jeff with by rubbing her half-covered ass against him when they were supposed to be behaving. She also knew her father didn’t like her wearing them, but he didn’t put his foot down too hard about it.
Her dad didn't answer, his face grim, which was unusual. He normally at least had a greeting for her. Instead, he tromped into the kitchen and slung his briefcase down on the table before getting a beer out of the fridge. He didn’t pop the top, but just pressed the cold bottle against the middle of his forehead, sighing deeply.
“Daddy?” Becky asked, coming into the dining area.
“Yeah?” Her father grunted, setting the bottle down and looking at her with tired eyes.
“I said hey,” Becky said, worried. Her dad often looked tired, but this time, he looked almost older than normal.
Her father looked at her without recognition for a moment, like he was staring at a stranger, before blinking and giving her a ghost of a smile. “Oh, I'm sorry. Hey, baby, what's going on?”
“Nothing. Are you all right?”
“I just have some things on my mind. That's all.”
Her father must have had some things on his mind for the past couple of months. He hadn't been himself in weeks. He was always distracted and withdrawn, and tonight was worse than normal. Usually, they would go to the gun range at least once or twice a month and he would show her how to use the latest gun, but lately, even that had stopped. His excuse was that he was too busy at work. It would have been believable if it hadn't been for all the times he had been busy but still made time anyway.
Becky blinked and looked down, feeling sad. “Okay, sorry to bother you, Daddy. I love you.”
Her father shook his head, giving her a soft smile. “You aren't a bother, and I love you too, pumpkin. I'm going to go upstairs and get in the bed with your mother. I've had a long day. Sleep tight when you go to sleep, angel.”
Her father got up, looking at the beer on the table before shaking his head in disgust and putting it back in the fridge. He came over, giving her a small hug and kissing her on the forehead. “Okay, thanks, Daddy.”
Her dad went upstairs, leaving her watching bad reality TV. For some reason, she was very restless. She found her eyes drawn to the briefcase on the table. He father usually didn't leave anything from his job lying around anywhere. He must have been really distracted. She went back to the kitchen door, looking at it just sitting there like Pandora’s Box, and she stepped forward, reaching for it.
Her cellphone text ringtone sounded, making her jump. She scrambled across the couch anxiously, thinking it was Jeff who had responded to her text. The briefcase was just a distraction. What she needed was Jeff’s hard cock making her see stars. The huge smile on her face evaporated when she saw who the text was from—her boyfriend, Greg. She groaned. Not what she needed right now, comforting Mr. Floppy.
Greg: Hey baby, what u doing?
Becky: Nothing.
Greg: Want to come over?
Becky: No, not really. I don't feel too good.
Greg: If you come here, I'll make it better.
Becky: I doubt it. I'm on my monthly.
Becky was lying, hoping that would be enough to dissuade Greg. It was one of the other things she liked about Jeff—he didn’t mind. It was one of Becky’s secrets that she was often hornier on her period than the rest of the month. Jeff just made sure the condom was on well and that they had a washcloth handy. Greg, on the other hand . . .
Greg: Oh.
Greg: Well, we don't have to do anything. We can just talk.
Becky: I really, really don't feel good.
Greg: Okay, babe, just hit me up if you change your mind.
Becky: I will.
Becky slung her phone back at the other end of the couch and rolled her eyes, irritated that Greg hadn't been Jeff. Greg was always wanting to do things sexually, but then he was unable to perform half the time. Becky wanted to be supportive, but she found that her selfish side hated the fact that she was stuck with someone because of the guilt she felt. Greg was really a nice guy behind the tough jock he acted like at school, which made it all the worse. He just had no idea of her true feelings because she played the supportive role to the hilt.
It wouldn't be so bad if Greg would just go get help for his problem. He always told her he would, but he was too afraid to admit to anyone that something was wrong with him. She eventually grew tired of urging him to get help and just started to pretend that she would wait for whenever he was ready.
That's where Jeff came in. He made pretending easy, but it was times like these when she couldn't get what she wanted that she became testy. She wondered how long it would go on before Greg found out and if he would go away quietly or be one of those guys who beat up his girl for daring to fuck one of his friends. Or better yet, if he would fight Jeff over his girl. The thought of that kind of turned her on. They were both hot guys, and Becky had to admit that to think she was hot enough to get those two to throw down was a huge ego boost.
She got up to get a cold pop out of the fridge. As she was walking back to the couch, a paper that had become halfway dislodged from her father's briefcase caught her eye. Glancing around uneasily, making sure her father wasn't somehow lurking about, she pulled the paper out and sat down at the table and began reading.
Department of Homeland Security
Subj Codes: PopCon- ResPro- UnOrCon- FinOpt
Code Name: Phoenix Down
The world's population is fast
approaching 8 billion people. Meanwhile, while great advancements have been made in farming, distribution and lack of other resources has put great strain on the planet’s ability to adapt. At the current rate, the Earth will not be able to sustain all human life.
The world population has experienced continuous growth since the end of the Great Famine and the Black Death in 1350, when it stood at around 370 million. The highest rates of growth—global population increases above 1.8% per year—were seen briefly during the 1950s, and for a longer period during the 1960s and 1970s.
The growth rate remained steady by 2.3% in 1965 but has now peaked to 4.0% as of 2015, the last year with full figures. Total annual births were highest in the late 1980s at about 138 million, but are now expected to rise to 180 million, while deaths number 56 million per year and are expected to increase to 80 million per year by 2040.
The problem is compounded by the so-called ‘greying’ of advanced economical nations, with some nations such as Japan actually seeing population decline, while developing and so-called ‘Third World’ nations continue to skyrocket. The disparity between advanced but aging ‘haves’ and youthful but poor ‘have nots’ has created a tinder box for global warfare on a catastrophic level.
With the chance of conflict ever rising, strain on other non-replaceable resources and more, classified projections show that the planet will run out of resources within the next two hundred years. Phoenix Down is a project that seeks to relieve the problem. Currently being funded by the Pentagon that began as an unconventional warfare option in secret bases around the country, Phoenix Down was created as an alternative to nuclear warfare that would leave the general ecosystem of the planet untouched while still delivering maximum effective casualties to the target. With the potential for population stresses factored in, the project has been expanded to a domestic capacity as well. A near-future stage-one test of Phoenix Down will be employed on a test area to test how effective it is. If successful, it will be rolled out around the globe. At its completion, a new project will be employed: Rise of The Phoenix.
Becky blinked, trying to figure out what the paper meant, and turned the page when she heard the door to the kitchen slam against the wall. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Becky?” her father yelled.
Becky jumped out of her chair, causing it to topple backward to clatter on the floor. She had been so engrossed by what she was reading that she hadn't heard her dad come down the stairs.
“Uh nothing, Daddy. I was putting your paper back in its briefcase. It had fallen out.”
Her father looked unconvinced. He snatched the paper from her hands. “You were reading this, weren't you?”
“Uh . . .” Becky said, backing up as her father jammed the paper back into his bag, his hands trembling.
“Don't lie to me!”
“I only saw a few words, Daddy, I promise.”
Jimmy's face darkened with rage as he turned back to her, his face no longer her father’s but maybe the monster her mother had mentioned. He backhanded Becky across the face, sending her crashing to the kitchen floor.
“You know it's against the rules to look through my things, so why would you do it?”
“I didn't mean to do it, Daddy,” Becky sobbed from the floor, tears running down her face. Her jaw throbbed in pain where he had hit her, and she could taste blood on her tongue.
“I give you everything, everything! Anything you ask for is yours, and the one thing I ask you to do, you can't do it.”
“Daddy, this only happened once, I—”
Jimmy grabbed Becky by the shoulders and yanked her to her feet, shaking her and screaming in her face, his eyes insane with anger and, Becky thought, fear as well. “Once is one time too many!”
“Jim?” her mother called from the stairs, “What's all this racket about? Stop yelling at our daughter and come back to bed.”
Jimmy let go of Becky with one hand, turning to point at the stairs where her mother’s feet could just be seen. “You shut the fuck up and mind your own business.”
“Excuse me?” her mother said, coming down a couple more steps. Becky could see her waist now, but it was blurry as her eyes filled with tears.
“Go back and crawl under the rock you came from.”
Her father was being really nasty. This was totally unlike him.
Her mother turned and stomped up the stairs, screaming. “Well fuck you too, bastard. You can sleep on the couch.”
Her parents’ bedroom door slammed a few moments after.
Becky remained paralyzed in her father’s grip, his hand digging into her arm so hard she was sure she’d have bruises, just wanting him to go away. She didn't want him to see the hurt that she felt in her heart. He’d never, ever in his life laid a hand on her before, and he’d never yelled at his wife that way before.
Her father returned to his tirade, shoving her away and lowering his voice to a deadly, raspy whisper.
“You should be being a good little girl, doing as she is asked, but do you think you can do that? No! You go around fucking two guys at once—”
Becky gasped. How could her father know that? He was barely aware of what Becky did in her social life.
At her gasp, he laughed. “What? You think I didn't know? My job offers me surveillance protection for me and my family. I know what you and your mother are doing at all times. I'm appalled to know that you aren't a sweet girl, but a whore like your mother—”
“Daddy, stop, please!”
“Sluts who should be dropped in a ditch somewhere—”
Becky clenched her hands in front of her, tears running down her face at her father’s blistering words. “Daddy, please stop!”
Jimmy ignored her, shaking his head. “I should have never married your fucking mother.”
She didn’t know why she could put up with comments about herself, but at mentioning her mother, Becky couldn’t take anymore. She stepped forward and slapped her father across the face, cutting the tirade like a switch. Tears flowed down her face as she looked into her dad's eyes. He was filled with so much anger, but when he saw the pain on his daughter's face, it seemed to drain away from his body like water down a shower drain.
“Baby,” he cried, his shoulders heaving as he pulled her to him to encircle her in his arms, “I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I'm just so stressed at work right now, and any little thing sets me on edge.” He rained kisses upon her tear-stained face and forehead. “Please forgive me, angel.”
He began rocking her back and forth, crying as much as she was now. Becky didn't say anything. Her father's words had really hurt her deeply, striking a deep chord.
“Please, Rebecca,” her father pleaded. There was genuine pain in his voice. “Forgive Daddy. I'll take you to the gun range this weekend, and we can relieve a lot of much-needed stress. Heck, you can even shoot me in the foot if that's what it'll take for you to forgive me.” He turned her chin up with his fingers so she had to look into his eyes. “Deal?”
She swallowed back tears. She wanted to say no, but she didn't know if he would go back into a rage if she said that, so she just nodded. “Deal.”
Her father could see the truth, and the brokenhearted smile he gave her was worse than even his rage, but somehow, he nodded, letting the dual lies stay where they were. “Okay, angel, now go on upstairs to watch TV because Daddy has to sleep down here since I've put myself in the dog house. Remember, I'm sorry. I love you, pumpkin.”
“Love you too,” Becky said weakly.
Her father gave her one last firm hug and let her go. She could hear him slump into his chair and the sobs start as the door closed, making her hurry across the living room. She got her cell off the couch and went up to her bedroom, falling back upon the bed to stare blankly up at the ceiling. It would take a while to get over what her daddy said to her, if she ever did. She would probably never look at him the same again.
Her text tone on her phone went off twice in a row, causing her to sta
rt. The texts were from Jeff, and normally, it would have sent her through the roof to receive a text from him, but what he said made her want to burst into tears all over again.
Jeff: Hey, I'm sorry. I had to help my sister with my niece. She was having bad nightmares.
Jeff: I'm ready now. I have my dick out for u, stroking it. U want it, baby?
Becky powered her phone off and rolled over to go to sleep.
CHAPTER 12
“O h my fucking God.”
Christy was peering out the hospital window, holding back the curtains. It was a little past mid-day, and they were on the fifteenth floor, so she could see a view of the surrounding area quite well. There was no sink in the room, but they’d used some bottles of saline solution to wash some of the bandages off their bodies, and they’d drained a baggie of something called ‘glucose solution 0.5 ml’ when they got thirsty. Christy thought it tasted like weak sugar water, but it was better than nothing.
Now, she was looking out at a scene from hell. There were fires going on all around the surrounding area. Smoke was coming up from random places in the distance.
That wasn't even the beginning of what was wrong. There were cars piled up as if there had been countless accidents simultaneously on every stretch of the road that she could see. People were running up and down the streets, fighting each other. It seemed to be complete anarchy.
“Wes, get over here,” Christy said. Wesley was busy rummaging the cabinets for drugs he could use to get high. Christy was sure that half the shit he’d pulled out of the cabinet could get him as high as he wanted, but he didn’t know any of the brand names, so Wes had resisted the urge, afraid he’d shoot himself up with a heart attack drug that would just make his chest hurt and his dick shrivel up or something. “Come on, get your ass over here!”