Cheap Thrills (6 Thrilling reads)

by Luis Samways

  Miss Harriet nods her head.

  ‘Yeah, they kidnaped me and forced me to help them with the beacons. I’m responsible for everything Wayne!’ says Miss Harriet, nearly breaking down in tears.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he says, comforting her with a firm but gentle touch of her hand.

  She smiles at her brother. The joy she feels is unexplainable. She hasn’t seen a member of her family for a very long time. She had started to forget what they looked like. But now she remembers. And for that she is happy.

  ‘I love you Wayne,’ she says, looking deep into her siblings frosty blue eyes.

  ‘I love you too,’ he says.

  ‘What’s the plan?’ asks Miss Harriet.

  Wayne smiles at his battered and bruised sister.

  ‘We get out of here before the US army ransacks the place,’ he says.

  Miss Harriet looks confused.

  ‘Ransack? What do you mean?’

  ‘The army have a lock on this place. They are coming in hot. This thing will be over fairly quick’

  Eleven

  ‘We can’t just up and leave our camp. We don’t know whether it’s safe in the bunker. What about the beacons?’ asks Ray as he sits down on a stack of newspapers they had been using to fuel the dwindling oil drum fire.

  ‘We have to risk it. It isn’t ideal but it’s better than this,’ says David, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

  Donner remains silent as she watches the Mayor in the distance waiting impatiently looking at his watch.

  ‘He gave us a few minutes to make a decision that could affect our lives here on out!’ says David.

  ‘Yeah, pretty much. I mean, he’s the Mayor of New York, surly we can trust him?’ says Ray.

  ‘I say only a few of us go. How about you and Donner?’ says David.

  ‘Me?’ asks Ray.

  ‘Yeah, is there a problem?’

  ‘No, just funny how you offer me up without even running it by me,’ says Ray.

  ‘I’ll go if you don’t want to,’ says David.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll sacrifice myself for the team David. If I die, don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll do just fine.’

  ‘Who said anything about dying?’ asks David

  ‘Don’t you think it’s a little dangerous what you are asking me and Donner to do?’

  ‘Not really. He’s the Mayor, and he said he has a bunker. You and Donner go check it out and come back and tell us whether or not its feasible to vacate to their,’ says David.

  ‘What if we don’t come back?’ asks Ray.

  ‘I’ll assume the worst. Don’t worry. I’ll tail you from behind. He won’t know I’m following you. If things go wrong, I’ll know where you are,’ says David.

  ‘But what if the covert army are in the bunker?’ asks Donner

  ‘Then you two are fucked. Look, someone has to do this. It’s the price we pay for survival. I know you can handle yourself Ray, I know if any trouble goes down, you can protect Donner.’

  ‘What about the girls?’ asks Donner.

  A frustrated look washes over David’s face.

  ‘Shit, your right. Maybe it’s best if you stay behind Donner,’ says David.

  ‘So I go in alone? Are you trying to get me killed?’ asks Ray.

  ‘Take Tyrell with you. It will be a chance for him to prove himself’

  Ray turns his head slightly to the left and see’s Tyrell playing with Abigail and Tristan.

  ‘You sure he’s ready for something like this? I mean, I need someone I can trust around me,’ says Ray.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll be okay. Look, I’ll be right behind you guys. If it’s a trap, I’ll nail the Mayor with a few shotgun shells and get you out of there. Who knows, maybe it isn’t. Maybe the bunker really is there and maybe it’s big enough for as many people he says it’s big enough for’

  ‘Maybe,’ says Ray

  Donner shakes her head in disbelief.

  ‘Maybe we are out of our fucking minds doing something like this,’ she says.

  ‘It doesn’t matter about if’s and maybe’s. The only thing that matters is survival, by any means necessary,’ says David, tapping his fingers on the barrel of his shotgun.

  Twelve

  Jesse Manteo and Ricky Pastori, along with Gianna have turned up outside the police precinct. The building looks worn and rugged. Police cruisers sitting outside of the building are destroyed. Some are still a blaze while others smoulder quietly in the corner of the car park. The place looks like it has been ransacked, and by the look of horror on both Ricky and Jesse’s face, they are thinking the same thing. The glass doors to the precinct are rendered useless with gaping holes where the glass once stood. Bullet holes pepper the surrounding walls as the sign of a struggle plays out in front of them. Rows of dead police officers lie on the floor. None of them burnt, all of them shot.

  ‘Fuck happened here?’ says Gianna.

  ‘That stupid wannabe army, that’s what happened here,’ says Ricky.

  ‘You recognise anyone?’ asks Gianna.

  ‘No, not yet,’ says Jesse.

  The three of them are careful not to step on any of the dead. Jesse cranes his head to the side, trying to see the dead men’s faces without turning them over. None of the dead at the front of the building look familiar.

  ‘No one I know yet,’ says Jesse.

  ‘Let’s go inside then,’ says Ricky.

  Jesse rolls his eyes, looking a tad nervous.

  ‘You mean in there?’ he says.

  ‘Of course. Where the hell else would I mean?’

  ‘It just doesn’t look safe that’s all,’ says Jesse.

  ‘This whole fucking city isn’t safe,’ says Gianna.

  Ricky nods his head, grabbing at his chest as he does so.

  ‘We owe it to every man and woman in that building to go inside. We need to identify them,’ he says.

  ‘Why? You expect us to send letters to the deceased’s family?’

  ‘No, but we need to know what we are dealing with. A bit of recon won’t hurt you know,’ says Ricky.

  ‘What?’

  ‘If we know how they died, then we can prepare for what weapons we will need to take these fuckers out!’

  ‘They have a tank! That’s all we need to know,’ says Jesse.

  ‘And we have the art of surprise, and big balls. Real big balls’

  Thirteen

  London, England

  Steven is sitting on the hard tarmac next to his turned over family estate car on the M5. He’s sobbing into his hands, his knees raised up to his chest. He’s grabbing at his legs as if his life depended on it. He grips at them with every sob, tears running down his cheek. He isn’t even aware of the commotion on the motorway. He hasn’t forgotten what happened. He saw those lights like everyone else. He saw the tarmac split into two when one of the lights in the sky rushed downwards and exploded on impact against the road. He saw countless cars flip into the air. He witnessed plenty of dead people on the road. He just didn’t care about them. He didn’t have the time or the inclination to care about those people. For while they were dying, the only person he ever cared about was dying too. She lay motionless in the back of the car now for two hours. That’s how long Steven had stayed there, and that’s how long he had been crying.

  He knew his wife was dead. That’s why he was crying after all. He just couldn’t believe she was gone. He didn’t want her to be gone. It pained him inside. It hurt when he breathed, so crying was an act of torture for him.

  ‘Please God, bring her back,’ he says, crying into his hands.

  He remains in that position for a few more minutes. His crying can be heard from a few hundred feet away. A family of three are watching on as the devastation unfolds. A man is unpacking some belongings from his trunk. A woman is seeing to some possessions in the front. A little boy is watching from a distance. He stares at Steven from afar. A slight but full tear runs down his prim cheek. He rubs his tiny hand o
n his face, wiping away the emotion. He decides to walk. After a few minutes he reaches Steven and now stands in front of him. Steven doesn’t realise anyone is there. He carries on crying when suddenly he hears the little boy burst into tears. Steven looks up and see’s the freckle faced little boy, his eyes moist under the dim light from the destruction around them.

  ‘What’s wrong Mister?’ says the boy, still crying, still upset.

  ‘Nothing little man. Nothing at all. Where’s your parents?’

  The little kid turns around and points to a car in the distance. Steven can see the boy’s parents looking busy packing things into rucksacks.

  ‘Why are you crying?’ asks the little boy, rubbing his eyes red raw.

  ‘Someone I know died,’ says Steven.

  The boy’s eyes narrow as he spots the foot of Steven’s wife sticking out of the window of the toppled car behind Steven.

  ‘Is that the person?’ asks the little boy.

  ‘Yeah,’ says Steven.

  ‘My dog died. When our car crashed, he went flying out of the window. I loved Rex,’ says the boy.

  Steven looks behind the boy and sees a dog next to a tree. He then see’s the windshield of the families car and realises the boy is telling the truth. Suddenly he feels a little sadder, this time for the boy.

  ‘Daddy had to snap the dog’s neck. He was waddling around , yelping. Daddy said it was for the best. It made Mommy cry,’ he says.

  Steven remembers the sound. It was about the same time in which he was cradling his wife a few hours prior. He remembered the sound of the dog yelping being cancelled out by his own wallowing.

  ‘Who broke your wife’s neck to stop her yelping?’ asks the boy.

  Steven couldn’t help smiling, even if it was the wrong time.

  ‘No one. She died peacefully,’ he says.

  ‘Dad says I can have another dog someday. Will you get another wife?’

  Steven smiles again.

  ‘Probably not,’ he says.

  ‘Oh. Do you want to meet my mum and dad? Maybe they can help you find a new wife?’

  Steven nods his head.

  I’d love to meet your mum and dad. I’ll take you back to them, just wait a few minutes while I grab some things,’ he says.

  Fourteen

  Albany, New York

  Mrs Novik reaches the top of the escalator. She waits there for a few moments until Clare appears from the left escalator parallel to her. She waves her hand gesturing something. Mrs Novik had never been good at understanding such sign language and shrugs her shoulders.

  ‘Move forward,’ Clare whispers.

  ‘Okay’

  Both women move forward as quietly and silently as they can. The top part of the mall is a lot quieter than they had thought. They follow the instructions on the note that they had found on the man that Clare had shot. They turn right and come across a row of shops and boutiques. None of them seem to house anything of any particular use. Everything in the mall seems to have been scavenged and looted. It annoys Clare something rotten.

  ‘What the hell is up with this place. You would have thought that at least SOMETHING would have been left. It’s not like we are months into the end of the world, it’s only been a damn week!’ says Clare, her voice slightly raised.

  ‘Typical humanity I guess. I bet as soon as the shit hit the fan, people were looting like mad. It didn’t take much to cause a riot before the flashing Beacons, let alone after them,’ says Mrs Novik.

  ‘I hear you there,’ says Clare.

  Both women continue to walk down the row of shops. They peer into a few of the buildings and still see nothing of interest.

  ‘So no supplies?’ says Mrs Novik.

  ‘Looks that way,’ says Clare.

  ‘So what are we going to do?’

  ‘Well the note said something would be here, so we need to see what it is. Maybe the guy had a cache of supplies hidden. We need to check, we can’t leave anything behind.’

  Suddenly both women hear something in the distance. It sounds like someone crying. Clare puts her finger to her lips. Mrs Novik understands that sort of sign language. Her body tenses up as she reaches for her gun, so does Clare. By now both women have their guns drawn.

  ‘Where is it coming from?’ asks Mrs Novik.

  ‘Over their!’ she says, slightly louder than she would have liked.

  ‘Daddy?’ says the crying voice in the distance.

  ‘Shit, what was that?’ says Clare, her gun and torch trembling in her hand.

  Both women move closer towards the sound of crying in the distance. Clare grips her handgun tightly as the sweat drips off her hand. She can feel her heart beat in her chest. Could this be a set up? She has a feeling she’s seen something similar to this in a horror movie. The bad guys set a tape recorder to play in a dark parking lot, a mother lost her child and heard the crying, then she investigated and moved closer to the crying but was then axed to death by the killer. Could this be a re-enactment of that event? She hopes not.

  ‘Hello?’ says Mrs Novik.

  Clare quickly turns her head to give Mrs Novik a stern look.

  ‘It could be a kid,’ she says, trying to justify her actions.

  ‘It could be a set up,’ says Clare, still gripping her handgun.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You never know,’ says Clare.

  As they continue to walk down the row of shops they see a little girl approach them. She has blonde hair that looks like it hadn’t been washed in a while. Her face resembles a chimney sweeps as it is covered in dirt. Mrs Novik quickly holsters her gun, while Clare continues to point it at the little girl.

  ‘What the hell are you doing? It’s only a little girl Clare, put down your gun!’

  ‘Anyone else with you Missy?’ shouts Clare.

  The little girl rubs her eyes as the beam from the torch hits her face.

  ‘You alone?’ asks Clare, starting to sound impatient.

  ‘Where’s daddy?’ asks the girl.

  ‘ARE YOU ALONE?’

  ‘What the hell are you doing Clare?’

  Suddenly a gunshot is heard. Mrs Novik covers her ears and looks at Clare. Clare turns her head slightly. Some blood trickles out of her mouth. She collapses onto the floor. The gun in her hand clangs off the concrete and swivels around in circles for a moment. Everything seems to happen in slow motion as Mrs Novik darts her head forward and sees the little girl being scooped up by a man. The man grabs the girl and raises his gun. He aims it steadily in the direction of Mrs Novik.

  Fifteen

  The National Guard swarm the surrounding area as quickly as they got there. In a flash they had set up a command center. Within a few minutes the troops had been briefed. A couple of moments later the plan was being executed. The lights went on. They burnt at the spiders and insects on the wall. A spider’s web collapsed as the light penetrated through the window. A few men inside the building looked at each other in panic as they heard the PA system buzz on.

  ‘This is the National Guard of the United States of America. You are surrounded. We have reason to believe that you are in possession of weapons of mass destruction. You have five minutes to disarm your weapons or we will come in. Once we come in, we have the authority to shoot to kill. This is your first and final warning. If you do not comply, we will be forced to use aggressive tactics,’ says the voice on the loud speaker.

  Mr Conway is in his office pacing. He can hear the PA system from there. He starts to feel rattled. He starts to question himself. An advisor is next to him, drinking a glass of whisky.

  ‘Everything will be alright Sir. We wanted this to happen,’ says the advisor.

  ‘I don’t follow you. How did we want the National Guard finding out about our outpost? How did we want the National Guard finding our base?’

  ‘It’s all part of the plan Sir,’ says the advisor.

  ‘A plan that will get us killed none the less,’ says Mr Conway.

  He grabs the g
lass of whisky out of his advisor’s hand and swigs it in one gulp. He slams the glass down on the desk and pulls out a briefcase.

  ‘Key?’ he says.

  His advisor starts fishing around his pockets and pulls out a key card. He hands it over to Mr Conway. Mr Conway slots it into the case. The hinges on the case buckle and suck out. The lid flips open, revealing a small black box inside. Mr Conway grabs a key from his pocket and slots it into the black box. He turns the key clockwise. A red light flashes on the box. After a few seconds it goes green.

  ‘In five,’ says the advisor.

  ‘Got it,’ says Mr Conway.

  They wait four seconds.

  ‘One,’ says the Advisor.

  Mr Conway pushes the button. A small beeping sound goes off. The office starts to shake as if an earthquake is ripping through the base.

  The National Guard stationed outside start to move into position when the shaking ground startles them.

  ‘What the fuck is going on?’ says one of the soldiers to one of his fellow comrades.

  ‘Fuck, look over there,’ he says, pointing to an adjacent field.

  A herd of sheep are scattered across the field when a massive rocket comes flying out of an opening in the grass.

  ‘They fired the nuke, they fired the nuke!’ screams a soldier into his two way radio.

  The rocket launches into the air and in a matter of seconds it has disappeared from view.

  ‘I repeat, nuke has been fired!’

  Another rumble can be heard, and after a few seconds another rocket fires out of the opening in the grassy knoll followed by a cluster of smaller rockets that spiral up into the air.

  ‘Fuck, fuck! Another nuke has been fired! Shit, more rockets, more rockets! They keep coming, they just won’t stop! God help us, god help us all!’

  “There are two problems for our species' survival - nuclear war and environmental catastrophe - and we're hurtling towards them knowingly.”