Cheap Thrills (6 Thrilling reads)

by Luis Samways

  She knows when to talk and when to stay quiet. She knows her boss isn’t going to be less menacing if she looks at him, and she certainly knows that whatever she does he isn’t going to forgive her. Miss Harriet thinks that maybe it’s best if she doesn’t see it coming. She would feel better in knowing that death came as a surprise and not a prolonged affair of misery and fear. Even if the floor is the last thing she sees, she rather have the pattern of the lights cascading off the fish tanks as her last image, and not the evil enjoyment of her boss dispatching of her.

  ‘You are going to die today, you know that right?’ he says, still seething in anger

  Miss Harriet nods her head inconspicuously like a child would when getting a hazing.

  ‘I’m glad that you know of your fate,’ he says calmly, the anger in his voice seeming to disappear as fast as it appeared moments before.

  ‘I’m sorry Sir,’ she finally says.

  Mr Conway’s facial expression changes from anger to confusion.

  ‘You’re sorry? How the hell does that even make sense?’ he says

  She finally looks up at him, her eyes looking moist in the well-lit office. She looks as if she is about to cry.

  ‘I just don’t want it to be like this,’ she says

  ‘Be like what?’

  ‘To end like this,’ she says

  ‘Well I have to kill you. You left me no choice,’ he says

  ‘I’m not talking about me.. I’m talking about you. I don’t want the world to know you as the guy who nuked Washington’

  ‘Neither do I, but they have left me no choice,’ he says

  ‘There is always a choice sir’

  Mr Conway nods his head in deep thought. He starts to pace the width of his desk, visibly dissecting his options in his head.

  ‘I guess there is one choice,’ he says

  ‘What?’ she asks

  ‘We steal another nuke and finish this goddamn thing!’ he says

  ‘But sir, you said…’

  Mr Conway nods his head at the two guards by her side. They grab Miss Harriet and drag her away. She screams as she is taken out of the office kicking her feet. The door closes behind them leaving Mr Conway by himself. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a cell phone. He dials some numbers.

  ‘Move Company Zero to the extraction point. We are going in for another nuke,’ he says

  Seven

  ‘Was it really that necessary to let off a stinger missile downtown?’ asks the Secretary of Defence, Howard.

  President Harriet continues to look out of the Oval Office window trying to piece together the day’s events in his head. He watches as the birds scatter on the White House lawn. The press continue to stand at the gates of the famous building in the midst of the new age the United States finds its self in.

  ‘Sir?’ says the Secretary of Defence as he stares at the back of the President’s head.

  ‘It was,’ says the President plainly and calmly.

  ‘Enlighten me in how it was necessary to risk the lives of countless citizens in that particular area’

  ‘It just was Howard,’ he says, still staring through the glass window that separates him from the baying mob of media outside.

  ‘You know that they are going to have a field day with this, don’t you?’ says Howard.

  ‘And so what if they do?’

  The Secretary of Defence shifts his eyes down to the floor. He is glad that it’s only the two of them in the room and not the usual circus of yes men that surround the President nearly twenty four hours a day. Secretary Howard does not like to be undermined. He just isn’t cut from the sort of cloth needed to take criticism, even if it does come from the most powerful man in the country.

  ‘We are losing this war Howard. We lost it from the very first second we decided to let those people take my daughter. We lost it when we decided not to blow their suspected base up. We will continue to lose if we do not take decisive action when needed, and if my Secretary of Defence cannot and will not support my actions of defence, then maybe I need a new confidant that actually supports my decisions, brazen or not,’ says President Harriet as he turns around to face his advisor.

  ‘I understand fully sir,’ says Howard

  ‘Do you? Do you really understand?’

  ‘Yes’

  ‘Then why is it that the man who supported such efforts of defence less than a day ago is now questioning such efforts when implemented?’

  ‘Because a day ago we were not shooting missiles into areas populated with pockets of the National Guard,’ says Howard.

  ‘Sometimes soldiers get killed,’ says the President bluntly

  ‘Sometimes they survive,’ says Howard.

  The president smiles as he turns back around to face the window.

  ‘Sometimes we have to do things that we don’t agree with and sometimes soldiers die,’ says the President folding his arms as he gazes out of the window.

  Eight

  ‘They did what?’ shouts First Sergeant Richards.

  The communications officer looks up at his superior and tries to answer him with his eyes. The sound of gunfire and explosions is wreaking havoc on his ability to concentrate and string a few words together to form a sentence.

  ‘They fired a missile at us sir! I’m sure they didn’t know we were here,’ says the Communications officer as he manages to catch a break in the noise of battle to quickly answer his superior.

  ‘You’re shitting me!’ says First Sergeant Richards.

  The communications officer shakes his head profusely.

  ‘No Sir I am not shitting you,’ he says bluntly

  ‘You better be dammit! I ain’t sticking my neck out on the line like this just so the Whitehouse themselves end up killing us with a stupid motherfucking move like that,’ he says

  ‘I agree sir,’ says the COMS officer.

  At that moment a whooshing sound is heard, much like the sound of a falling bomb in the cartoons of yesteryear. The sound resembles a cartoon skit but has a relation to an actual dangerous sound, a sort of buzzing sound the wind makes before a mortar drops. Those sounds combined alert the trained ear of the First Sergeant immediately.

  ‘Move, move, move!’ he screams, flailing his arms at his COMS officer.

  The two of them quickly dismount from the hill they were standing on and roll down it. A few seconds later a huge thundering explosion goes off as the hill they were on prior is blown apart nearly splitting it in two. Both men look on in awe as dirt and mud is plastered around them in the splash damage of the mortar strike. They both get up in tandem like a much trained unit and brush each other down.

  ‘You reckon that was the Whitehouse too?’ laughs Richards.

  ‘I doubt it sir,’ says the COMS officer.

  The two of them turn their gazes to the horizon in which lower Manhattan can be seen. The image is a mural of war, countless high-rise buildings are engulfed in flames, and others are toppled over. A sea of tanks and aeroplanes can be seen doing battle on the streets of New York.

  ‘So this is what the end of the world looks like?’ says the COMS officer.

  Richards laughs.

  ‘Nope, just the end of New York son’

  Nine

  ‘Who the hell are you kid?’ asks David, pointing his shotgun at the youth.

  ‘The name’s Tyrell. Tyrell Banks Sir,’ says the kid.

  ‘How the hell did you get down here?’ asks Ray, backing David up.

  ‘I came down to the sewers to get away from those lights. I thought I’d be safe down here. Man was I wrong. Me and my homeboy Dwayne got held up by these mean looking son of bitches. They were dressed up in army gear and said they were going to kill us. Me and Dwayne managed to give them the slip but we went different directions. Before I could do anything, I heard gunfire. I decided to follow it and here I am. I thought my homeboy got shot. Have you seen him Sir?’

  David looks at Ray in an uncertain fashion, not knowing whether the boy is
lying or whether or not to trust him.

  ‘Come on, help me find my friend. You can’t miss him, he’s a tall motherfucker. Built like a bodybuilder, brain of a toddler. He’s my nigga man, you got to help me find him,’ says the young man.

  David lowers his shotgun and steps forward a few paces towards the young guy called Tyrell.

  ‘Yeah man, I saw your friend. I’m afraid the gunshots you heard were those army guys shooting at us. Your friend came across us while running away from them and tried to warn us. Before we could do anything he took a stray bullet, but then we managed to fight them off,’ says David.

  ‘He’s dead?’ asks Tyrell, nearly in tears but trying to remain tough.

  ‘I’m afraid so kid,’ says Ray, patting him on the back.

  Ray and David try to comfort the kid some more and end up listening to the survival story of both Tyrell and Dwayne from the boy’s perspective.

  ‘Before we knew it, the guy we tried robbing ended up blowing up. He literally blew up in front of us. We heard some weird beeping sound and saw this light on his wrist, and then he exploded. We then noticed the same light thing on our wrist, so we rushed underground. We thought we would be safer,’ says Tyrell.

  ‘Seems like you been through the mills little dude,’ says David

  ‘You telling me man’

  Suddenly some laughter can be heard from the furthest corner of the makeshift sewer camp. It’s the captured army guy. His sadistic smile can be seen from where David and the other two men stand.

  ‘I shot your fucking friend kid. I did it. The bitch went down like a sack of potatoes. I enjoyed it too. Maybe when I escape I’ll cut your throat and then the two of you can have “homeboy” sex all the way up in heaven,’ says the captured prisoner.

  ‘What the fuck? That’s the guy who shot Dwayne?’ asks Tyrell

  ‘Yeah, we gather anyway. He also tried killing us. He’s our prisoner, so he’s off limits. We are using him to find out information on these scumbags that are taking over the city. Apparently they are responsible for the exploding people’

  ‘We can’t just keep a killer tied up like that. We need him buried. We need him dead,’ says Tyrell.

  David and Ray look at each other in confusion.

  ‘Who said anything about “we” kid? You’re welcome to stay here but understand this. Me and Ray are the boss’s around here. What we say goes. We make the decisions regarding what happens to prisoners around here,’ says David

  Tyrell shakes his head in disbelief.

  ‘Prisoners? Theirs more than one?’

  ‘Well, there is only one of them, but we do have another prisoner. He’s nothing to do with the covert army’

  ‘So what did he do then?’

  ‘He’s a suspected paedophile,’ says Ray

  ‘Well isn’t this a happy camp of sickos!’ says Tyrell

  Both David and Ray laugh to ease the tension a little.

  ‘We do our best to get by,’ says Ray

  Ten

  Albany New York

  ‘You sure you don’t want to stay for a few more days?’ Asks Clare

  Mrs Novik shakes her head as she gathers her belongings out from the white van she had spent the night in. In the van are two mattresses, one for her and the other for Clare who uses the van as a shelter. They had stayed in the van all night, most of it was spent swapping stories about the things they had seen and the places they had been to. Clare had found the story about Mrs Novik’s husband most interesting. The hostility that the two women found themselves in when they first met had surly gone by now and all that remained was the start of a friendship. Mrs Novik didn’t really want to be friends with anyone. She didn’t want that kind of baggage. She figured that if things went south, then looking after a person and making sure they got to safety just makes her more eligible to die herself. Mrs Novik just doesn’t want the hassle.

  ‘I’m okay Clare, but thanks for the offer. I really needed someone to talk to,’ she says

  ‘Don’t worry about it Angelina. You’re welcome to come back anytime you want’

  The two of them stay silent for a while as Mrs Novik continues to gather her possessions, filling up the rucksack that Clare had given her with the supplies that she had managed to scavenge.

  They both kiss each other of the cheek.

  ‘I guess I’ll see you around. Thanks once again Clare’

  Mrs Novik turns around to walk away from the van when a man with a gun steps in front of her. He had managed to jump out from behind a parked family SUV. It happened so quick that Clare was still smiling until she realised what was happening.

  ‘Fucking move and I’ll kill the both of you,’ says the scraggy looking man who’s brandishing an equally unclean looking 9mm.

  ‘Please don’t kill me,’ says Mrs Novik

  ‘If you move I will,’ says the man.

  Mrs Novik is partially blocking the view of the man’s face. Clare moves a little to the left to try and get a glimpse of what is happening.

  ‘I said don’t move. That includes you near the van! If you move, the bitch gets it,’ he says

  ‘Please!’ says Mrs Novik

  Suddenly the man hits the floor as the sound of a loud gunshot ricochets off the Albany skyscrapers around them. A pool of blood oozes out of the man’s skull. The bullet had hit him right in the middle of the head. It was a crack shot if Mrs Novik had ever seen one. She turns around in shock and see’s Clare holster a heavy looking pistol.

  ‘Always carry a gun,’ says Clare unapologetically. ‘It’s a dangerous world out there,’ she says, brushing her hair out of her face.

  Eleven

  London, England

  Steven Grimshaw has just finished packing his suitcase. He has put enough clothes in his luggage to last a good lifetime. The scene unfolding in front of his wife is one that is hard to believe. She didn’t expect her husband to get back so soon, and she certainly didn’t expect him to be on edge. She had never seen him like this before. She never knew her husband to have fear or be rattled in any way, but today it was obvious that he was experiencing both of these senses at a heightened state.

  ‘Why are you packing clothes Steven? What happened?’ she asks, a little scared at what she might hear in response.

  Steven grunts in frustration.

  ‘Can’t you see why? Can’t you understand what the hell is going on woman?’ he says.

  His wife isn’t used to hearing him in such a manor. She has never heard him speak to her like this before. If she wasn’t so scared she would tell him where to stick his chauvinistic comments.

  ‘Why are you covered in dirt?’ she asks, not used to seeing her husband in such a state. Usually he would be wearing a suit with grace, but today he looks like a bomb victim of some sorts, which wouldn’t be too far from the truth, if only she knew what the truth was.

  ‘Uh, I don’t know. Maybe it was something to do with the explosion I witnessed down the barber shop. Don’t you think that me being so close to it that I might just get a tad dirty?’ he says sarcastically.

  ‘Explosion?’ she says, petrified at the realisation of what her husband has been through.

  ‘Yeah. I told you I was down the police station didn’t I?’ he says

  ‘Yeah but I gathered that you might have been arrested for tailing a perp’

  ‘Why would I be arrested for that?’ he asks

  ‘I don’t know,’ she says

  ‘Look, just get your clothes and some other supplies, we need to leave the city,’ he says

  ‘But why? I thought the police let you go?’ she asks

  ‘They did, but then when I left the police station blew up as well,’ he says

  The look on his wife’s face is one of complete shock. She doesn’t know how to perceive what her husband is telling her.

  ‘What?’ she says

  ‘They are going to pin it on me, I just know it! They tried to pin the barber shop explosion on me, and now I bet they will try and pin
the police station explosion on me as well!’

  ‘But why would they do that?’

  Steven shakes his head in frustration. He can’t believe the amount of questions his wife is asking him. In his head he had imagined that the conversation would have gone down differently. In the movies people listen to people when they say something bad is going to happen, but to Steven’s dismay, even with half the debris of London on his clothes, his wife still doubts him.

  ‘Steven?’ she says

  ‘Just bloody get the clothes and pack some supplies. I’m not going to tell you again. I’m leaving in a bit and if you’re not packed then I’ll leave you behind,’ he says

  His wife nods her head and quickly gets a move on. After ten minutes of packing and sorting, Mr Grimshaw is in their car on their driveway and Mrs Grimshaw is putting the luggage in the trunk. After a few more minutes, they are leaving the driveway and speeding off towards the M5.

  Twelve

  New Jersey, East Rutherford, Met Life Stadium

  Sammy Banes is standing over the pile of massacred survivors that the group managed to gather ready for cremation. The atmosphere isn’t one of happiness which that much is obvious. It is an atmosphere of pain, anguish, anger and the need for revenge. It’s a feeling that is both unanimous and universal. It is a feeling that Sammy has felt ever since he had witnessed his Super Bowl winning team blow up on the field no less than forty eight hours prior. It’s the same feeling he felt when an army of men rushed the survivors hunkering below MetLife stadium and opened fire on them. Although some of the dead contain the unknown soldiers that attacked them, they won’t be burned like the survivors. They will be left to rot in the spots that they were defeated on until nothing but bones is left. The smell will be intolerable, but it will serve as a reminder of their victory. He and the rest of the survivors, all one hundred plus of them have agreed with the idea of leaving the dead attackers to rot. It was an easy decision gathering the fact that they have other areas below the stadium in which they can set up a more permanent camp.