Collapse (New America)

by Richard Stephenson

  "Just listen to me! I know what I'm saying sounds completely insane! All I'm saying to you folks is - what do you have to lose? If I'm full of shit, all you have to do is go your own way - no harm, no foul."

  "If I drive all the way out there for nothing and waste my gas, you and I are gonna have a problem!" yelled a man towards the front. The crowd agreed with him.

  "If you’re worried about your gas, then don't come!" The man on the RV was in his early twenties, thin with long, curly blonde hair. "My cousin knows exactly what he's talking about! He already has a large group of people out there! When my dad comes back he's gonna take another group with him! It’s your choice if you wanna come along!"

  An older man in his sixties spoke up. "This place you're talking about sounds like some science fiction fantasy land! How come we never heard of it?"

  "Because my uncle is Howard Beck! He built the place years ago and kept it a secret! It's massive and can hold all of us for years!"

  Most of the crowd started laughing. Some began to walk away. The same observer spoke again. "Howard Beck? The crazy computer guy? He's lived alone for years, and no one has laid eyes on the man. If he really is in this bunker he won't let any of us inside! Stop wasting our time!" About half the crowd walked away in frustration.

  The young man atop the RV pleaded with them. “He’s going to let us in! I promise you! It's the only reason he built the place! He's known for years that the world was going to end! Don't waste this chance! You have no idea what you're passing up!"

  The young man's proclamation managed to turn a few people around. Realizing that he wasn't going to convince any others, he gave his final plea. "Just be patient and wait here. My dad will be back soon to take another group of you out." The young man climbed down from the roof and quickly went inside his RV.

  Richard turned to Tank. “Billy, I'm gonna stay here and try to talk to this kid. Do me a favor; walk around and see if you can find the RV we're looking for."

  "You got it."

  "And Billy?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Be nice. Try not to start any trouble."

  Tank smiled. “I already told you, Killer, trouble finds you, not me."

  As Tank headed into the RV-Town, Richard walked to the young man’s vehicle and knocked on the door.

  "Hey man, I'll tell you the same thing I told these people. I've never been inside the place, so I really can't answer a lot of questions."

  Richard smiled and turned on the charm. “Not what I was going to ask. Don't worry, I'm not trying to run a scam or hustle you. Just want a few minutes of your time. It's really important, please."

  "What's this about?"

  "I think someone in that first group has my kids. Please, let me inside, and I'll tell you all about it. I really need your help."

  The young man paused warily for a few seconds before unlocking the door. "Sure, come on inside. Don't try anything stupid, cuz I got a Glock 19 holstered under my jacket."

  Richard smiled, raising his hands in surrender. "I promise you, nothing stupid. I'm an unarmed man looking for his kids."

  "Please, sit down," the young man said, motioning towards the kitchen table.

  "Thank you. My name is Richard."

  "Jamison."

  "Jamison, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I'll get right to the point. My junkie ex-wife let her boyfriend take my kids away in his parents' RV. I want them back."

  "That's terrible, man. I'm glad to help. What do you need to know?"

  Richard described the RV to him, and the young man leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. "Yes, I remember it, kinda hard to miss. Those folks seemed nice enough. Older couple and their son."

  "You see my kids?"

  "I do remember a boy, early teens. He was following your ex-wife's boyfriend around like a puppy."

  "What about my girl? She's nine."

  "Don't recall a little girl. She might have been inside the RV with the old couple."

  "You're probably right. How long before your father gets back? I need to get out there as quick as possible."

  "Well, the place is about an hour away; no roads lead out to it. He's probably just getting there, so depending on how long he stays, it’ll take an hour for him to get back."

  "Do you know the way? Can I drive out there myself?"

  "You can try, but you're liable to get lost. I've been there one time myself."

  "Depending on how good your directions are, I think I can manage."

  "Suit yourself. Hold on. Let me get pencil and paper to draw you a map."

  "Fantastic. I really appreciate it."

  Jamison drew a very impressive map and talked Richard through it. Richard was impressed with the detail the kid was able to recall having only been to the place once. He thanked the young man and shook his hand.

  "I hope you find them. Good luck."

  "Thank you. If we ever meet again, just know that you've made a friend." Richard exited the RV and made his way back to the truck, motioning for Tank to come back.

  "Sorry, Richard, no luck. The RV isn't here."

  "It's all good; I know exactly where they are. Time to get moving."

  As the two drove away, Richard grew more and more confident that the map was solid; every marker and checkpoint on the map matched up exactly with the terrain. Just shy of an hour into the trip, they saw about two dozen vehicles parked in a central location.

  "That's it.” A few minutes later they were close enough to see the details of the vehicles. Parked in the middle of the group was an older, tan colored RV with an American flag spray-painted on the driver's side and a black quarter panel above the rear driver's side tire. "There it is!" yelled Richard as he raced over to the beaten down RV and began banging on the door.

  An older woman opened the door and silently surveyed the two men standing in front of her.

  "Ma'am, my name is Richard Dupree. I'm Timothy and Christina’s father. I'm here to take them with me."

  Tank walked a few steps away to give Richard some privacy. The woman gave Richard a harsh look. “I think you must be confused. Their father died years ago. I'm hoping my son will marry their mother. I love those kids so much; they already call me Grandma."

  Richard was shocked but didn't let it show. “Ma'am, I assure you that I am their father and I'm obviously not dead."

  "Monique's ex-husband was a convicted murderer and was executed for his crimes. If you’re their father, and I know you most certainly are not, it's probably best that those children stay with us." The old woman shot a disapproving glare at Tank and looked back at Richard. Tank was not the type of guy you would bring to a child custody hearing as a character witness.

  "Ma'am, I hate to tell you but everything you’ve been told about me is a lie. I'm not surprised my ex-wife made up some stories about me to tell the kids. It's painful for me to say that my daughter has no idea who I am. She was only two years old the last time she saw me. I'm sure my son will remember me. He can tell you I’m his father."

  "Monique wouldn’t lie to me. I love that girl and trust her more than some stranger I just met."

  "Ma'am, why isn't Monique with you right now? Where do you think she is this very moment?"

  "Monique is a nurse. She had to stay behind at the hospital and care for those poor people. Chad said she was one of the few people who stayed behind at the hospital when everyone else left those poor sick people to die. Once my husband and I are safe with the kids, he's gonna go back and get her."

  None of this surprised Richard in the least, he even had to stop himself from laughing. He’d learned the hard way that Monique's talent for lying bordered on sociopathic. She could manipulate anyone into believing anything she told them. This poor woman was no exception.

  "Ma'am, where can I find Chad?"

  "He's over with the rest of the group. He and my husband wanted me to stay with the RV."

  "Thank you, ma'am, I'm very sorry for both
ering you."

  The old woman looked at Richard in disgust and slammed the door behind her.

  Tank walked back over to Richard. "See what I mean? You and trouble are old friends."

  Richard didn't reply. He scanned the crowd and tried to figure out his next move. He knew he wouldn't have any problem picking Chad or his father out of the crowd; he had memorized their faces from the pictures in Monique's iPad and had asked Tank to do the same while they were in the truck.

  "Do you see them?" asked Tank.

  "No. They’re here somewhere, though, so keep looking."

  They didn't have to look very long. They saw Chad and his father walking back toward their RV with Richard’s son following close behind. Richard tapped Tank on the shoulder, and they both started walking back to the RV. Suddenly, Chad spotted them and turned, grabbing his father’s arm to stop him. Richard's son noticed nothing and kept walking toward the RV. Richard was relieved that his son kept going. If things went poorly with Chad, the last thing he wanted was a repeat of Oswald Jefferson's murder. He had scarred his son for life by brutally murdering a man in front of him; he didn’t plan to repeat it.

  Chad had his chest stuck out and was staring Richard down, ready to take him on if he had to. However, his bravado was quickly squashed when he saw Tank.

  "Fuck you want?"

  "Well, Chad, we need to have a little talk."

  "How the fuck you know my name?"

  "Well, we have a lot in common, you see. You're dating my ex-wife."

  "No shit, you're Bryan?"

  "No, I'm her first husband."

  "Bullshit! That guy's dead."

  "I look dead to you?"

  "No, you look like a lying sack of shit to me."

  "Listen here, sport, I couldn’t care less if you believe me or not. What's important for you to know is I'm here to take my kids."

  "Is that right?"

  "That's right."

  "Fuck off, man. They ain't your kids. I don't know what kind of bullshit scam you're trying to pull, but it's not going to work. I've made a lot of friends here, and they ain't gonna let you do a fucking thing."

  "Monique ever tell you about her first husband?"

  "Yeah, she told me everything."

  "Well, most of it’s probably untrue, given the fact that she told you I was dead. I'm curious - where is Monique? You bring her along?"

  "I'm getting tired of listening to you, man. Fuck off." Chad started to walk away, but Richard stopped him dead in his tracks.

  "She's at home strung out on heroin." Richard watched as Chad stopped walking and turned around with a look of shock on his face. "There ya go, sport! Knew that would grab your attention. You made up some tale about her being Florence Nightingale staying behind to care for sick patients. Complete garbage, but I will give it to you, not a bad cover story."

  Richard paused to let in sink in. Chad was frantically searching for something to say and finally spoke to his father in a weak voice, "Dad, he's lying, you know that."

  Richard saw confusion on the older man’s face. He obviously knew the kind of man his son was and doubted his story. "Chad, please tell me you didn't do what I think you did. I thought the Good Lord had changed you. Your mother and I have prayed for your soul, and we thought you had truly found Jesus."

  "Don't start with that shit! I'm not getting into this with you again!"

  "I have had just about enough of your foul tongue. The Bible says...”

  "Shut up! Go back to the RV, and let me handle this!"

  "Tell this man the truth!"

  "Go back to the RV, now!"

  "I will, son. Your mother and I will be praying for your soul. It will break her heart when she hears about this.” The old man wiped tears from his cheeks as he looked at Richard and nodded.

  "Start talking, sport. What's the truth you need to tell me? You Monique's dealer? Why didn't you bring her? She cheating on you? Found a better score?"

  "Fuck that bitch! I was gonna bring her along so I could sell her pussy. She's a fucking freak in the sack, but you already know that, don't you?"

  Richard’s blood began to boil. He was ready to break this little punk's jaw but managed to keep his cool for his children's sake. "Listen here, sport, I'm not in the slightest bit concerned about my junkie ex-wife. The only thing that matters to me is getting my kids the hell away from you. This is what's gonna happen. You’re gonna go back to the RV and explain to your parents that those kids are mine, and they are coming with me. No one needs to get hurt."

  "Well, that's gonna be a problem. You can have your son. I’m tired of that little shit anyway. Only reason he's here is he keeps my parents busy and off my back. Your daughter? Well, sorry to tell you she ain't here."

  "You wanna run that by me again, sport? What do you mean she ain't here? Where is she? You leave her with her mother? Because if you did, that's a problem. She wasn't in the house."

  "Well, two RV-Towns back we were completely out of gas. This nice couple really, really liked her. They had a little toddler that needed a big sister. So, I traded a full tank of gas for little Chrissy.”

  Richard leapt forward and pinned Chad against the RV behind him. He punched him in the stomach and rammed his knee into his balls. Once he was doubled over in pain, Richard propped him back up against he RV, pinning his shoulders down. “You’re lying! Your parents...”

  “My parents think the family is gonna catch up with us, thinks Chrissy is playing big sister with the little rugrat. I seriously doubt they’re even close. The dad really liked Chrissy. I mean, like really liked her a lot.”

  Richard fought as hard as he could to maintain control of himself. Ever fiber of his being, every single muscle in his body was crying out to introduce this man to Oswald Jefferson deep down in the lowest bowels of hell. You need him to find Chrissy. You need him to find Chrissy. You need him to find Chrissy. He kept repeating the phrase over and over in his mind.

  Richard’s self control slipped farther away as the man began to laugh at him. “You can’t kill me and you know it. Look around you, asshole. Every person here has a gun, and somebody will shoot you dead if I so much as scream. A few people have already seen us and are running to get help, so you better let me go.” Chad looked past Richard at Tank. “And keep your dog on a leash. He might be the biggest mother fucker I’ve ever see in my life, but someone empties a clip into him he’ll go down just the same.”

  Richard knew the dead man walking was right. He needed to think fast or things would get out of hand in a hurry. Richard decided fear and intimidation were his only course.

  “This is what I’m gonna do, sport. You ready? Here we go.”

  Richard rammed his knee into Chad’s balls again and when he doubled over, Richard wrapped his arm around his neck. Richard placed the crook of his arm directly on top of the man’s voice box and flexed his bicep and forearm, cutting off the blood supply to his internal and external jugular veins. In less than ten seconds, Chad was unconscious.

  “Billy, get him out of this area quick before anyone comes back. Do. Not. Kill. Him. I need him alive!” Tank picked up Chad like a rag doll and ran around the side of the RV and behind another one.

  Richard needed answers and had no intention of trying to get them from Chad. He walked back to his parents’ RV and knocked on the door. The door opened and standing in front of Richard was his firstborn child. He was so focused and determined to find out what happened to his daughter that he had forgotten about his son. Richard was speechless and couldn’t take his eyes off the boy. He was thirteen years old and looked just like his father had at that age. Richard’s eyes filled with tears as he searched for some glimmer of recognition in his son’s eyes.

  “Hello, Timothy.”

  “Do you know me?”

  “I do, yes.”

  “Who are you?”

  A tear spilled down Richard’s cheek, and he searched for what to say. Would his son be
immediately brought back to the nursery seeing his father brutally take a man’s life in front of his very eyes? Would he scream at him in fear? Would Timothy even remember him? Had his mind built a psychological barrier around the horrible memory, protecting him from insanity? Richard had been through hell and back to get to this moment. He had no choice but to take the leap.

  “Timothy, this might be hard for...”

  “Where’s my boy? Where’s Chad?” The old man stepped from the back of the RV with a look of terror on his face. “Is he okay?”

  “Your son is fine, sir. We need to talk. May I please come in?”