Cheap Thrills (6 Thrilling reads)

by Luis Samways

  ‘Dying isn’t in your job description either, but I can assure you it’s a possible outcome’

  Three

  Jesse Manteo and Ricky Pastori are walking down the streets of New York with their new found companion Gianna. They are making their way to the police precinct which Jesse feels is the best place to hunker down for safety.

  ‘Tell me again why we are risking our lives and going to the precinct?’ asks Gianna who seems to be a little annoyed.

  Jesse looks sideways at her, trying to refrain himself from lashing out verbally. He clenches his fist in anger and breathes in deeply and then exhales.

  ‘Look, I’ve already said, we need to bring it to those bastards! We need to do our duty,’ says Jesse.

  ‘Our duty? I’m sorry Jesse, but it’s not my duty to protect these streets. We need to take into account the blinking lights that are destroying people, left, right and center. Surly that’s what we should be worried about,’ says Gianna.

  ‘Didn’t you hear what that guy with the megaphone said when he was marching with the other army types?’

  ‘Yeah, but I don’t see a link,’ says Gianna.

  ‘You don’t see a link? He practically mentioned the beacons!’

  ‘Oh, so that’s what we are calling them now? “Beacons”’

  Ricky smiles.

  ‘Jesse has a point Gianna. We didn’t ask you to hop along with us. You chose to come with us under your own free will. We didn’t force you to do anything,’ says Ricky.

  Gianna stops dead in the middle of the footpath, forcing Ricky and Jesse to stop as well.

  ‘You didn’t force me, I know that. But what do you expect me to do, walk by myself?’

  ‘You could have if you wanted to,’ says Jesse

  ‘With no car? Remember those two teenagers you beat up?’

  ‘Yeah’

  ‘Well they exploded into a fireball and took my car with them, along with the rest of the cars in the parking lot next to the diner. Or don’t you remember?’

  Jesse screws his face a little, still feeling rather ticked off.

  ‘Of course I remember, I mean how could I not?’

  ‘So don’t tell me that I could have gone on without you guys. You said you were the police and that I would be safe with you,’ says Gianna.

  ‘We are the police and you will be safe with us,’ says Ricky

  ‘I don’t think the police can protect me from them. I have my doubts that anyone can protect us from the lights,’ says Gianna.

  ‘Well that’s your right as a United States citizen to voice your opinion,’ says Jesse

  ‘New United States of America, remember what that guy said?’

  ‘Whatever, it’s still the same old US of A to me, even if it is being taken over by some wacky far right stealth army,’ says Jesse.

  Four

  Mrs Novik is hiding behind the wall in front of the Albany Mall. She and Clare have been stationed outside of the Mall since sunrise. They are hatching a plan to scavenge some food and water from inside the building. They fear the place is teaming with bandits after finding a note in the dead man’s cloak who Clare had managed to dispatch off outside of their van.

  ‘You reckon it’s safe to go inside?’ asks Angelina as she checks the magazine to her pistol that Clare had just given her.

  ‘Safe wouldn’t be the word I would use, but whatever happens, at least we know we are armed,’ says Clare as she too checks the magazine to her pistol.

  ‘Won’t they also be armed?’

  ‘It’s possible…But so is us being confronted by a bunch of hot men who only want to party and enjoy the apocalypse. Who knows, baby oil could be in abundance in the mall!’

  Mrs Novik smiles.

  ‘It’s weird isn’t it?’

  Clare looks at Mrs Novik in confusion.

  ‘What’s weird?’ she asks

  ‘That normal is this. This is what the definition of normal is now. No more soccer mums. No more partying. No more Days of Our Lives. No more nothing. Just killing and surviving. I can’t open up a fridge to get something to eat any more. I can’t open a tap to get some water. It’s all down to whatever I find to survive. Doesn’t that scare you Clare?’

  ‘No, it doesn’t scare me. I know that the times have changed, but we can still make a difference. We can still survive, and we will survive Angelina. I can guarantee you that hun!’

  ‘Is that why we have the guns? To survive? Or is it to make sure that other people don’t?’

  Clare looks into Mrs Novik’s eyes and gives her a sympathetic look.

  ‘We only kill the people who want to kill us, those are the rules. It’s either them or us Angelina, them or us’

  Five

  Miss Harriet is sitting on a stool in the middle of the dark room. Her head is tilted slightly to the left as she tries to stay awake. She has been tied up now for what she estimates to be twelve hours. Not one single person has come by to check on her. She knows that it may be the last couple of hours of her life. She can feel it under her skin. It’s making her hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She knows she is going to die. She has come to terms with it. She embraces the fact that this maybe it. She doesn’t want to be on planet earth anymore. She wants to be anywhere but there, even if that means being six feet under.

  She hears footsteps approach the room she is in. She braces herself for whatever lies ahead of her. The lock on the door grinds open as the pins in the lock unbolt and echo off the walls. The sound sends chills down Miss Harriet’s spine. The door opens slightly and a small ray of light hits her face. She can see the small specks of dust dance around the room as they fly across the rays of light. The door opens some more and a figure steps through the door frame. It’s a tall and slightly slender shadow of a man. He is breathing deep and shallow breaths as if he is just as nervous as Miss Harriet. Finally the light cascades off his face and she can see who it is. Her eyes light up and a small crevice of joy is seen on her face as the dimples on her cheeks press inwards and the remnants of a smile speckle across her face.

  The man puts his finger up to his lips.

  ‘Shhh, don’t worry I’ll get you out of here,’ he says.

  He gently takes the strap of duct tape off her face.

  ‘Wayne?’ she says quietly, not quite realising what is happening.

  ‘Hey Diane, your big brother is here to rescue you!’ he says, picking the lock to her restraints.

  Six

  ‘Mayor Rodriguez? Says David one more time, not quite sure whether what he is seeing is a reality or fantasy.

  ‘Hey,’ says the Mayor once again with a look of pure excitement on his face.

  Ray looks on in disbelief, brandishing a hint of scepticism on his face.

  ‘What on earth are you doing down here?’ says Ray

  Donner steps back a few paces and grabs Tyrell by the sleeve to make him follow her. The two little girls follow Donner as if she was their mother, without any fear or any discerning look on their faces.

  ‘I have a bunker not too far from here. I was just making my way down to the bunker when I heard all sorts of racket. I decided to investigate and here I am, investigation complete,’ says the pudgy Mayor with a look of self-satisfaction on his rounded face.

  ‘But why do you have a bunker?’ asks Ray

  ‘Yeah, what’s up with that man? You some sort of prepper?’ asks Tyrell

  The Mayor smiles.

  ‘No young man, I am not a prepper. I do however own a lot of New York real estate and decided that maybe planning for the future was in my best interest. So I had a bunker made for me,’ says the Mayor.

  ‘What’s it got to do with us? Can’t you just be on your way and leave us be?’ asks Ray

  ‘Well I could, but I wouldn’t be a very good Mayor if I didn’t take care of my people,’ he says

  ‘Your people?’ repeats David.

  ‘Yeah, that’s what you guys are, my people,’ he says.

  ‘I think you
must be a little nutty if you think we are your people. We are our own people, not yours,’ says Donner.

  ‘You have misunderstood me. I meant that in the sincerest way possible. You are my people like everyone else in the city of New York. It’s my duty to look after the citizens of New York.’

  ‘Oh, so all the gun fire above is your way of looking after the city?’ asks David

  ‘I’m afraid that has nothing to do with me. Above ground is a mess. I can’t do anything about it. It’s in the government’s hands now,’ says the Mayor.

  ‘What about the people who came and shot us up? Some sort of New World Order bullshit I say,’ says Ray

  The Mayor looks around the underground basecamp the survivors have set up. He can see the shadows of battle in the camp as he surveys the various bullet holes in the walls.

  ‘What happened down here?’ he asks

  ‘Those bastards that are tearing the city apart came down here to take us out! How do we know you aren’t responsible?’ asks Ray

  ‘Me? How could I be responsible? I’m just the Mayor! I’m here to help you,’ he says.

  ‘How are you going to do that?’

  ‘You guys can come with me to my bunker. There’s enough room, plus plenty of supplies,’ says the Mayor.

  The group look shocked at the gesture as they gaze at each other in pure disbelief.

  Seven

  ‘We are going to make a move on them as soon as we can sir. We can’t rush these things. We just can’t risk losing our lead. After that, it will be full steam ahead,’ says the advisor.

  ‘Full steam ahead? What do you take this for? A fucking choo choo train? I want results, not fucking choo choo trains you prick!’ says the President.

  The room full of constituents put a brave face on at the sound of the President’s discord. No one dares say a word as President Harriet scans his vision around the crowded meeting room.

  ‘Yes Mr President,’ says the advisor.

  The President’s facial expression deepens as he sits down on his chair at the head of the table. He starts to fiddle around with some lose cloth on his sleeve. He smiles as he thinks about the times in which he would die of embarrassment if his garments were not proper and without defect.

  ‘Look, I know I can be an asshole. I know I can be hot-headed. But one thing I will not be is defeated. I will not apologise for my faults, for they are what they are. But I will tell you when I have been rude. You are not a prick. None of you are pricks. You are the line that stands between us and them. You are the line that stands between getting my daughter back alive or seeing her off at her funeral. You are the real heroes. Sometimes heroes fall, but not you. We will beat this, and when we do, then we can celebrate. Believe me when I tell you, we will fucking celebrate!’ says the President.

  ‘Yes Sir!’ says one of the other constituents.

  ‘Back to the drawing board then. When will we strike?’ asks the President, still fiddling with one of his lose strands on his cuff.

  ‘In the next three hours Sir,’ says the advisor.

  ‘Wont we risk an attack if we prolong our initiative?’

  ‘I don’t know Sir, but we will get these bastards.’

  The President smiles.

  ‘We will,’ he says.

  ‘We have had some news on the failed nuke that landed in Nebraska,’ says the advisor, flipping through some documents.

  ‘And?’

  ‘Well, it was EMP’d sir,’ he says.

  ‘EMP’d?’

  ‘Electrical magnetic pulse,’ says one of the other advisors.

  ‘I know what it means,’ says the President, his patience beginning to run thin once more. ‘Who could have done such a thing and why?’ he asks.

  ‘We don’t know. But we could have a friendly in there,’ says the advisor.

  The President’s eyes widen.

  ‘You mean we have a plant?’

  ‘It’s possible,’ says the advisor.

  ‘Could it be Wayne?’ asks the President

  ‘Your son is off the grid. He has been for a while now. We don’t know where he is. The CIA has told us that he is on a secret recon mission in Japan,’ says the advisor.

  ‘Fuck the CIA. They won’t even tell me where the hell my son is.’

  ‘It’s for your own good sir. Wayne decided to go into the CIA himself,’ says the advisor.

  ‘Still, I should know where he is at all times,’ says the President.

  ‘He’s an agent sir. No one knows where he is,’ says the advisor.

  Eight

  London, England

  Steven’s hearing pops into calibration as the sound of explosions rupture at his ear drums.

  ‘Gosh,’ he says as he tries to lift himself up from the dirty motorway tarmac.

  He sees the devastation caused by the flying lights prior to him being knocked out. The tarmac he is standing on has a massive crack in the middle of it. Between his legs he can see the blackness in-between the cracked road. He can feel air gushing out from the mysterious hole in the road. He can hear the whooshing wind wrap around his face and bounce off his shoulder. He turns his head slightly to the left and then to the right, trying to shake the cobwebs out from his rattled skull. A handful of cars are planted on the motorway. Some are upside down, others are on their sides. A lot of motionless people lie on the ground. Blood oozing from their bodies. Screams echoing off the sunset. Smoke makes its way up Steven’s nasal cavity and makes him sneeze. Steven turns around to see the car he was in toppled over on its side. He rushes over to it. He can hear the petrol hitting the tarmac. He fears the car could explode. He frantically looks around the immediate area of his decommissioned car. He’s trying to find his wife Sharron.

  ‘Sharron? Can you hear me?’ he shouts.

  He tries to compensate for the tremendous amount of screaming that he can hear from other drivers on the motorway.

  ‘Sharron?’

  Suddenly he can see a foot sticking out of the driver’s door. It’s not moving. He bends down and tries to open the door. It’s jammed. He tries to rip it off its hinges. He can’t seem to budge it.

  ‘Shit!’ he screams.

  He tires budging it again. Still no movement.

  ‘Come on you fucking piece of shit!’

  Finally the door seems to fly off its hinges, making him land on his back, cradling the now lose door. He throws it to one side and quickly leaps over to the driver’s door. He sees a lot of blood. He then sees his wife’s head. Her eyes are wide open, not moving. He touches her, she feels cold. He sees her white complexion, it’s a little off her usual healthy glow. He panics.

  ‘Fucking hell Sharron. Don’t die! I need you baby! Please don’t die!’ he screams, shaking her furiously.

  She doesn’t move. He checks for her pulse. He can’t locate it.

  ‘Oh god, please god’

  He shakes her some more. She still isn’t moving. He goes in for some CPR. He bangs on her chest with his fist. He breaths into her mouth. Her lips stick to his. He continues to thump at her chest for what seems like an eternity.

  Nine

  Albany, New York

  Clare and Angelina Novik are making their way inside the baron looking mall. Clare is leading the way as she holds a flashlight firmly to her chest, trying to minimise the ray of light, keeping them under the radar as they move through the deserted lower level of the mall.

  ‘Dark in here,’ she says.

  ‘Yep,’ says Mrs Novik

  ‘You reckon we will find anything?’

  ‘It’s possible,’ says Clare.

  They continue on towards a set of escalators that are non-functioning. Nothing in the mall is functioning. The electric is out and the place has a slight deafening silence to it. Mrs Novik catches herself in a panic as she looks around the deserted and blacked out surroundings she wallows in. She keeps looking at Clare in front of her, making sure she doesn’t lose track of her. She feels as if Clare is the most qualified person c
ompared to her when it comes to killing off the bad guys. She had already proven it when it came to killing undesirables when she shot the man that held Mrs Novik at gun point a few hours prior.

  Clare fishes into her pocket with her right hand and pulls something out. It’s the note from the dead man that she had found. She reads the note once more, trying to gage and understand it.

  “Top floor, to the left. Albany Mall.” It read.

  ‘What do you think it means,’ asks Mrs Novik as she catches a glimpse of the scrunched up note.

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe it’s a hideout,’ she says.

  ‘A hideout for what exactly?’

  ‘People….weapons….food….medical supplies, could be anything,’ says Clare.

  ‘I guess there is only one way to find out right?’ smiles Mrs Novik

  ‘Yeah, let’s go up the escalators, you take the right, I’ll take the left. Watch out for booby traps or tripwires. We don’t want anyone to find out we are here,’ says Clare.

  ‘What if they do find out that we are here?’

  ‘Well, if the people in the mall are anything like the guy who held a gun to you, then that may not be the only gun pointed at us today,’ she says.

  Ten

  ‘I’m here sis, don’t worry, you’ll be safe with me,’ says Wayne as he unties Miss Harriet.

  The chains around her torso fall slack and tumble to the floor. The sound clangs off the atmosphere and makes the sense of urgency surrounding them feel more apparent.

  ‘Hurry up. They will kill me, and you!’ she says

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he says once more.

  Finally he manages to free her from her restrains. He grabs her by the arm and hoists her up onto her feet. She feels a little unstable as she balances herself out.

  ‘How the hell did you get here? Is there a rescue team?’ she asks.

  ‘Nope. The CIA sent me in. we’ve been monitoring this base for three years. We have been preparing for something like this, but not quite on this scale. Ever since you went missing, the CIA has been working day and night trying to secure your return to safety. It was just pure luck that these guys so happen to be the ones responsible for the beacons,’ he says.