The End - a Post Apocalyptic Novel

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The End - a Post Apocalyptic Novel Page 18

by G. Michael Hopf


  As he walked he looked at everyone, they no longer seemed to care about appearances. Most of the women had their hair pulled back while men wore hats and were unshaven.

  Each scavenger team brought back food, but it was never enough to feed the more than 700 people who lived in their community. The gardening might work but it would be slow, it would take months before the gardens would be producing any real amount of food. Water, too, would become an issue, they had secured the large tank but that would only last for a couple of months before it ran dry and then there was the issue of medicine; some in the community had ongoing medical issues that required daily medications. Jimmy’s own son had to have an inhaler due to his asthma. Fortunately, the teams had been very successful with securing large caches of medications but that too would eventually dry up.

  Gordon had a lot on his plate, but he was committed to making it work; at the moment he had no other choice unless he was going to leave and risk it on the road.

  Gordon’s thoughts were interrupted when Melissa hollered his name from a distance, “Gordon!”

  He looked around and saw her waving, returning the wave he wondered what she might want as she jogged up to him.

  “Hi Gordon, how are you and the family?”

  “I’m good, thanks for asking; how are you doing?”

  “Good, well as good as can be with the circumstances. As you know Eric finally made it home the next day. He had to walk all the way from downtown,” Melissa said, she appeared nervous; she crossed her arms when she wasn’t talking.

  “I had heard, I knew he’d be fine,” Gordon tried to keep his answers short because he now was late to meet his team.

  “I’m sorry; I know you’re busy Gordon; but I’m really here to ask a favor and not to have small talk.”

  “Okay, so how can I help?”

  “Eric has just been at home with the baby and not doing anything; I’ve been doing some volunteering at the school with Samantha, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

  “Yes, I know,” Gordon said.

  “You see, it’s about Eric; he’s kinda in a funk,” Melissa said, she was not really looking Gordon in the face when she talked and her nervous behavior increased when she mentioned her husband.

  Sensing her nervousness, Gordon reached out and touched her arm and said, “What is it Melissa?”

  Giving a sigh she said, “Can Eric join your teams? He’s really smart and he’s strong; he rowed in college and he’s athletic. I know he’s just an accountant and has no military experience but he can use the guy’ time and he needs to get out of the house and do something.”

  “Why isn’t Eric here asking me?” Gordon asked.

  “Because he was afraid you’d say no.”

  “Oh my God, not at all; I need smart guys like Eric. I don’t care what he did before as long as he can handle himself outside the gate.”

  Melissa’s face lit up and she said, “Great! I’ll let him know. When can he meet you to go over any details?”

  “How about you come over for dinner tonight, I’ll pull him aside to chat. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds perfect, Gordon. Thank you so much,” Melissa said, now looking happy and relieved.

  “Not a problem at all, but if you’ll excuse me I do need to go,” Gordon said, pointing to his team waiting on him.

  Melissa turned in the direction he was pointing and then turned back and said, “No problem, thank you again and I’ll see you tonight.”

  Gordon walked off and then stopped. He turned back and said, “Please let my wife know we’re having you all over for dinner tonight.”

  “I’ll let her know at school,” Melissa said, she then waved and turned around.

  Gordon started walking toward his team. He liked Eric; he didn’t know him that well but Eric impressed him as an educated and smart man. He was a second-generation Chinese immigrant. His parents came to the U.S. with nothing and opened up a small bakery. Pouring their heart and soul into it, the bakery became successful enough that they could afford to send Eric to Harvard. Eric followed his parents’ entrepreneurial spirit and opened his own accounting firm after getting an MBA. He was average height and very lean. He was 5 years older than Gordon and about 10 years senior to Melissa. Gordon would get a better feel for Eric’s spot on the teams tonight over a drink. Always needing good people, Gordon looked forward to sitting down with him.

  Gordon finally reached the vehicle and tossed in his gear. Today he was going out with Max and Jerrod. Jerrod was a former Army Ranger and veteran of Iraq. He was tall and muscular, with thick brown hair and brown eyes. With the last name of Hernandez, Gordon laughed to himself that Jerrod was not a very Hispanic first name. Before the attacks, Gordon only knew him in passing when he’d see him out running in the neighborhood. Jerrod was married and had a two-year old son.

  Max was short in build but made up for his height by having quite the “colorful” personality. Gordon thought he fit the perfect image of a suave Italian single guy. He kept his full head of short, black hair combed back. He was one of the few single people who lived in the neighborhood. Gordon had never met Max before the attacks but knew he was an attorney for a law firm downtown.

  Both men had proven to be quite competent and capable. Max was a bit of a hot head and had a short temper, but he had proven he could fight and Gordon liked that.

  “You gentlemen ready?” Gordon asked.

  “Yes sir,” Jerrod said.

  “Yep,” Max answered leaning against the Chevy Nova. The Nova was Max’s car. He loved old classic muscle cars and he let everyone know that his car was fast.

  All three men got in the car with Gordon riding shotgun. After they cleared the main gate, Max asked, “Where to?”

  Gordon looked both ways and said, “That way. Hopefully we’ll come back with a lot more guns. Keep your fingers crossed boys and stay alert, we’re going farther than we have before.”

  Max slammed the gas pedal down, causing the Nova to spin out. They accelerated quickly and disappeared over the hill.

  ****

  USS Makin Island, Indian Ocean

  Sebastian sat outside getting some cool ocean air when the hatch opened, bathing him in the red light from the passageway. Tomlinson stepped out of the glow and approached Sebastian.

  Tomlinson pulled out a pack of Camel Lights and offered one to Sebastian. “You look like you could use one of these.”

  “No, but if you had a drink I would take that,” Sebastian answered. He stared out into the moonlit waters of the Indian Ocean. The saltiness of the air and the sounds of the waves soothed his troubled mind.

  Tomlinson sat next to him and lit his cigarette. He took a drag and asked, “So tell me; what happened out there this morning?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Sebastian said, not looking at Tomlinson.

  “Well, I’ll tell you this, if you ever want to chat, I’m here for ya’ bro as long as you’re not going to whine.”

  “What do you think happens now?” Sebastian asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know; what sucks is that we have to be underway for the next three weeks with not a single port call,” Tomlinson said, then took another drag.

  “You do realize that if we get back to the States and everything is working fine or things go back to normal, we risk being arrested and possibly hung for what happened today.”

  “Well, first they’d have to catch me and second I trust the colonel. I think everything is fucked and we have to carve out something for us now.”

  “I hope you’re right, I really do.”

  “Seriously, man, what’s your deal? I’ve never seen you like this before,” Tomlinson said, then took his last drag and flicked the butt of the cigarette over the railing.

  “I told you, I don’t want to get into it right now. Let me process what happened today and then maybe we can talk about it, but please respect me and stop asking.” Sebastian said, with a tinge of irritation in his voice.

  “Oka
y, bro. I’ll leave you be,” Tomlinson stood up, opened the hatch and walked back inside the ship.

  Sebastian sat and plotted about what he’d do once they reached California. He just hoped that they could avoid anymore engagements against other Americans before then.

  ****

  San Diego, CA

  Gordon returned home safe but not happy. The journey into Mira Mesa to gather arms proved to be a partial success. They had made it in and out without any confrontation, but the gun store had been sacked already. His team had managed to get some items that could come in handy like body armor, clothing, boots, slings, holsters and other accessories but no guns or ammo. They did stop by another Home Depot and pulled more seed and some fertilizer but the food was gone. Gordon was shocked by how quickly the resources were drying up.

  On their return, they had made a grisly discovery at a Von’s grocery store. Dozens or more people had been executed outside of the store. Whoever it was had left their mark. The word, “Villistas” was spray painted on the wall behind them. He did not know what it meant, but he knew it wasn’t good. It appeared that gangs or armed groups were already coalescing together. Things were clearly getting more violent and desperate.

  Gordon walked into the house tired and ready to eat. When he walked into the candle-lit foyer he could hear his kids playing and giggling down the hall and Samantha scolding them to clean up their mess. Gordon smiled, the sounds of normal family life were still there even though the house itself was starting to go through a transformation too. The toilets had overflowed a few days before. Even though they had cleaned up the mess, taped the toilet lids shut and secured the doors a slight smell of raw sewage remained in the air. Samantha tried her best to cover up the smell with scented candles but a faint aroma remained.

  “Gordon when you’re done settling in, can you help clean Haley up?” Samantha yelled from the play room.

  “What happened?” Gordon yelled back bent over taking off his boots.

  “She thought it was more fun to paint herself instead of the paper.”

  “Okay, babe; I’ll get right on it,” Gordon said after taking off his last boot and sitting back in the chair. He let out a sigh of exhaustion and rubbed his face.

  Hunter ran up to him, “Daddy, you’re home!”

  “Hey, big guy!” Gordon exclaimed. He picked up Hunter and hugged him. “How were things today, anything to report?”

  “No sir, all good,” Hunter answered as he saluted Gordon.

  “Thank you for watching over the ladies of the house, I appreciate that,” Gordon warmly told his son.

  They began to walk down the hall when banging on the front door disrupted their family bliss. Gordon quickly put Hunter down and told him to go into the playroom immediately. Hunter listened and ran off. Gordon pulled his pistol from his shoulder holster and approached the door. All of his exhaustion had been replaced by adrenaline. Whoever was banging would not stop. Gordon slowly approached the door when a familiar voice cried out.

  “Gordon, open up!” Jimmy cried.

  Gordon quickly opened the door to see Jimmy before him with Mason in his arms.

  “Jimmy; what’s going on?”

  “Gordon, it’s Mason; he’s having an asthma attack and we can’t find his inhaler. I stopped by the clinic and we don’t have any in inventory. I don’t know what to do. Please help me!” Jimmy said with fear in his voice.

  Gordon acted without thinking and asked Jimmy, “Is your rig out front?” Gordon thought that they had two choices, go door to door to see if anyone else in the neighborhood had an inhaler or take their chances outside the gate. He decided that they’d have better luck going outside the gate to a hospital or pharmacy.

  “Yes, yes!” Jimmy said.

  Hunter and Haley were peering from behind the door of the playroom. Samantha ran down the hall and stopped just behind Gordon, she could see Jimmy was on the verge of breaking down. Mason was pale and limp in his arms, almost lifeless.

  “Come on, let’s go!” Gordon said to Jimmy after just sliding his boots back on. He pointed outside and then followed up by saying, “We need to go out the gate to find an inhaler!”

  Jimmy didn’t say a thing; he just looked down at his son, whose arms dangled as he walked briskly behind Gordon to his truck.

  When Jimmy reached the truck, Gordon held the door open. He lay Mason down across the bench seat and sat next to him. Jimmy put Mason’s head on his lap and stroked his hair. Mason’s breathing was very shallow. Gordon jumped behind the wheel and turned on the truck. He sped off toward the closest gate. When he reached the gate he yelled out the window to the gate guards to open the gate immediately. Gordon started to accelerate when he heard someone yell. He looked and saw Dan Bradford in the side mirror.

  “One second, stop!” Dan yelled.

  Gordon stuck his head out the window and replied, “Dan, we don’t have time we have to go; it’s an emergency.”

  “Can I help in any way?” he said, after jogging up to the driver’s side window.

  “Do you have an inhaler?”

  “No.”

  “Then the answer’s no, I need to go find one for Jimmy’s son ASAP.”

  “Let me go to help as backup for you.”

  “Sure, jump in the bed,” Gordon told him.

  Dan jumped in the bed and immediately slapped the side of the truck telling Gordon he was ready to go. Gordon sped off and headed north.

  Gordon drove as fast as he could, all of the abandoned vehicles on the road made it difficult as they had to swerve to avoid them, causing him to slow down and speed up. Gordon focused on driving and Jimmy comforted his son and whispered to him that everything would be okay.

  Gordon knew exactly where he was going and after 12 minutes of driving they pulled up to Sharp Hospital’s ER entrance.

  “I’ll find an inhaler as quickly as I can, I promise,” Gordon assured Jimmy. He then placed his hand on Mason’s head and said softer, “I will find one, I promise you,” he slammed the truck door and ran for the ER entrance.

  Jimmy looked up at Gordon as he slammed the truck door, the lights of the dash cast a somber shadow across his face, “Please hurry. I don’t know how long he can make it, he’s barely breathing now.”

  Pulling his pistol out in anticipation that they might run into others he approached the doors to the ER main entrance apprehensively. The doors were closed tight. Dan ran up and started to try to peel the doors apart. Gordon didn’t want to waste time so he looked around for something to smash the glass and found a large paver brick; he picked it up and told Dan to step aside. He threw it as hard as he could, shattering the glass. Dan and Gordon cleared the remaining glass and entered the dark hallway. Immediately upon entering the hallway the smell of death wafted over them.

  “Oh, my God!” Dan said placing his hand over his nose and mouth.

  Gordon turned on his small Sure-fire flashlight and quickly proceeded down the hallway. The further he moved into the darkness the stronger the smell. It appeared that no one had ransacked this part of the hospital yet. It looked in disarray but that was due to the chaos created after the attacks. Gordon guessed that the hospital employees probably abandoned the hospital days after the attacks. Gordon’s light illuminated the hallway and brought light to darkened spaces. He peered into each room to see what was there. The smell grew greater; he knew he would soon locate the source.

  Gordon reached the end of the hallway, casting his light inside the last room he finally found the origin of the rotten smell that filled his nostrils. Lying naked and now bloated was an old man who had been in his 60s or 70s.

  Dan walked up just behind Gordon and said, “Nasty!”

  “Well, I’m sure that’s not how he wanted to go or be remembered,” Gordon said. He then turned his attention away from the dead man and opened the swinging doors that led into a main corridor.

  The doors hadn’t closed for a few moments before Dan and Gordon heard a crash at the end of the corridor.
They both flashed their lights and bathed the entire hallway in light. Another crash echoed, followed by angry yelling. They were able to pinpoint the noise from a room around the corner. With pistols drawn they proceeded down the hall. Gordon had no doubt it was someone scavenging like them. Gordon looked on the wall and saw a sign with an arrow pointing in the direction they were headed that said, “Pharmacy.” He peeked around the corner of the corridor and heard the noise again. The sound came from the direction of the pharmacy. Gordon turned back to Dan and said, “Sounds like whoever is making that noise is in the pharmacy. We need to get down there and get what we need. This could turn ugly, so be ready.”

  “Okay,” Dan said looking a bit nervous.

  They both turned the corner with their pistols raised and slowly made their way down the dark hall toward the sound. After only a few steps, they saw a light bouncing around a room on the left. Without notice, someone appeared from the room carrying a box. He turned away from Dan and Gordon and walked down the hall and exited on the right. Once the door closed behind the stranger Gordon stepped up to the room and saw no other lights. He turned on his flashlight and entered the room while Dan remained in the hall providing cover. The pharmacy had been almost stripped. Gordon immediately started to dig through the open boxes on the counters. Not finding what he was looking for made Gordon frustrated. He quickly began to look at each shelf and went through every drawer. After an exhaustive search he still could not find an inhaler.

  “Damn it!” Gordon said aloud pushing one of the boxes onto the floor.

  “Just hold it right there,” Dan ordered.

  Gordon stopped his search and headed for the door.

  “Don’t make a move!” Dan yelled.

  Gordon stepped out of the pharmacy and saw the man. Dan had the flashlight on him.

  The man stood there with his empty hands up.

  Gordon put his light on the man’s face and said, “I need an inhaler, where are the rest of your boxes?”

  The man did not say a word; he just stood there blocking the lights from his eyes.

  “Where are your boxes?” Gordon again asked. “If you can’t see let me just tell you that we are both armed.”

 

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