15 Signs Of Murder (Fifteen thrillers)

by Luis Samways

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she says, slightly worried at the visible state of panic on her husband’s face.

  ‘It’s not for you to fucking understand! Just pack woman!’ he says while composing himself, rushing up the stairs in a hurry past her.

  Three

  Location classified, United States.

  ‘One’

  She jumps behind the blast shield …..

  Miss Harriet looks on as the nuclear warhead blasts debris off the ground and propels itself into the air. In a matter of seconds it has already escaped through the opening in the roof. She watches on in horror as the rocket blasters ooze hot smoke and the heat scorches at her clothes. She see’s sparks ignite in the air and starts to cough while trying to catch her already escaping breath. After no more than five seconds the missile has disappeared from view; all that remains of the signs of its existence is a trail of smoke in the night sky that arch’s into the west. She quickly composes herself and looks down at the LED device she has in her hand. It has a crude tracking dot on its interface representing the whereabouts of the missile at that moment in time. It has already travelled more than six miles in the little time that it has been air born. She doesn’t have much time to do what she needs to do. She gets up and rushes over to the stand in which the rocket was propped up on. She stands there, holding the little device she has in her hands, raising it up in the air, much like someone would do when trying to catch some signal.

  ‘Shit, come on you fucker!’ she says to herself.

  The device flashes green and she spots her opportunity. She keys in some numbers and an option pops up on the tiny screen.

  “Activate EMP?” it reads.

  She hits the touchscreen with her thumb and the little device beeps a few times.

  “EMP set” it reads.

  She smiles as she looks up at the opening in the roof. She can see the stars sparkle in the sky as she waits for the sign that her work is done. Suddenly a ray of light engulfs the night sky and a wave of electricity rushes through the blackness of the night lighting up the sky like a second sun.

  ‘Yes!’ she says, far happier than she has been in a long while.

  She knows she has just prevented a nuclear strike on US soil, and for that she is proud. She is just about to leave the scene of her crime when she feels the cold sensation of metal being pressed against her head.

  ‘Don’t you move bitch,’ the voice says behind her.

  Four

  Ray is pacing as he listens to David explain what the captive man had told him during the interrogation.

  ‘So they have nukes?’ asks Ray

  ‘Yeah, apparently they are going to launch one soon,’ says David

  Ray’s expression dampens as he looks down at the ground in frustration, not quite knowing what to do.

  ‘So, you think that rumble earlier on could have been a nuke?’ asks Ray

  ‘Maybe, it was quite low key though, so it might have just been a rocket attack,’ says David

  ‘Good, “just” a rocket attack,’ repeats Ray sarcastically

  David tries to comfort Ray with a candid smile.

  ‘Don’t worry man; everything is going to be alright. We will get through this, I can guarantee you that. We are down here, and we are safe. Nothing can get us, not even those fucking blinking lights’

  ‘That’s the problem man. We are down here in a fucking sewer, hiding out from rockets, nukes and crazy army guys that want all of us dead! And to top it all off, we have a paedophile living with us and a captured prisoner trying to rattle us by saying how powerful these so called people are and how much of a shit storm we are in. I’m just tired of hiding, and I’m tired of being scared. All I want to do is get out of here and bust some goddamn heads!’

  ‘We will get out of here one day Ray. We will, but for the time being we have the two little girls and Donner to think of. We can’t be dragging their asses into danger just because we are bored of sitting around and twiddling our thumbs,’ says David

  They both look at each other in anguish. Both men know how hard times are and how they are the only hope for the group. The thoughts of responsibility wash over David and Ray as they ponder their next moves. After a long moment, someone finally suggests something.

  ‘We need some food, and we need it fast. Didn’t you get anything from the vending machines?’ asks David

  Ray shakes his head.

  ‘There wasn’t much there,’ he says

  ‘So what do we do for food?’

  Ray shrugs his shoulders

  ‘Fuck knows,’ he says

  At that moment both men can hear Donner scream in fear. They look at each other momentarily and then swing into action, rushing over to Donner and the girls. What they are met with surprises both of them. A man stands in front of them with his hands raised in the air as if he is surrendering to something or someone. Ray and David look at the man and don’t recognise him. He is a young man, of African American origin sporting a basketball jersey and khaki pants.

  ‘I don’t want any trouble yo,’ the teen says

  ‘Well, I’m afraid you came to the wrong place if trouble isn’t what you’re looking for boy,’ says Ray

  Five

  ‘Are you sure that was a nuke?’ asks Ricky Pastori as he ducks for cover in the hardware store.

  Jesse Manteo and Gianna are also hiding behind a desk trying to scamper for safety.

  ‘I’m not a nuke expert Rick, but whatever it was I don’t think it would go well with our plan for survival, hence why we are in here hiding away from it!’

  Another small rumble goes off, followed by a hail of gunfire.

  ‘What the fuck is going on? Is there some sort of war we are unaware of?’ asks Gianna

  ‘War? It’s probably just a bunch of New Yorkers killing each other. Wouldn’t really surprise me,’ says Jesse

  ‘Yep, just another day in the Big Apple,’ concurs Ricky

  ‘Come on guys! There is no way that the people of New York are shooting at each other in a time like this!’

  ‘Yeah, because the people of New York aren’t into looting the Sony shops and stealing high value goods like anybody else! It’s no secret sister that when tragedy strikes, humans tend to fend for themselves. The gunshots we are hearing are most likely the National Guard dispatching of the criminals on the streets, but I bet you that the criminals are fighting back!’

  ‘I doubt it,’ says Gianna, who is peaking over the hardware desk trying to see whatever is happening on the street.

  At that moment a man runs past the shop and down the road in the direction that Jesse and the others had walked through earlier on.

  ‘See, just some random dude running through the streets of New York,’ says Ricky

  Suddenly a large group of soldiers dressed in unfamiliar clothing run past the shop opening fire in the direction of the fleeing man. They then disappear out of sight of the shop front and continue down the road, firing some more rounds that are accompanied by the sounds of people screaming and pleading for their lives.

  ‘Who the hell were they?’ asks Ricky

  ‘I don’t know,’ says Jesse, shocked at the situation that’s unfolding.

  Another group of men rush by the shop followed by more pursuing soldiers. After a few seconds a massive black tank rolls down the street. The rumbling of the metal plated treads winding down the road ricochet off the ground and shake the contents of the hardware store in which Jesse and the others find themselves hunkered down in.

  ‘Holy shit!’ whispers Jesse, in awe of what he is seeing.

  Another marching group of the mysteriously robed soldiers walk by, one of them is holding a mega phone.

  ‘This is the New United States of America brought to you by Colonel Conway of the New United Federation of Earth. We mean you no harm people of New York, but know that we are armed. If you do not pledge your allegiance to the New United States of America then we will terminate you. If we don’t get you by the means
of our weapons, than we will flush you out with the beacons. You have been warned! Surrender peacefully and death will be quick!’

  The marching group continue to walk down the road until they are out of sight and all that remains is the echoing pleas of surrender from a distance.

  ‘We are fucked!’ says Jesse

  ‘You’re telling me!’ says Gianna

  ‘The New United States of America?’ says Ricky

  ‘This is some Stephen Spielberg shit!’ says Gianna

  The group remain silent for a little while until the sounds of the marching army have faded into silence.

  ‘So what the hell are we going to do? Asks Ricky

  ‘Fight,’ says Jesse

  Both Ricky and Gianna look at Jesse in disbelief

  ‘Fight….How?’ asks Gianna

  ‘We continue on our way to the precinct and when we get there, we arm ourselves and fight,’ says Jesse

  ‘Just the three of us?’ asks Gianna

  ‘No…I’m sure the guys at the precinct will help,’ says Jesse

  ‘If they are alive, that is,’ says Ricky

  Jesse smiles

  ‘Even if they aren’t, we will kill the enemy,’ says Jesse as his eyes narrow at the thought of doing battle.

  Ricky and Gianna look at each other in dismay, not believing the words that are coming out of Jesse’s mouth.

  ‘And how do you suggest we kill the enemy?’ asks Ricky

  ‘By any means necessary!’ says Jesse

  Six

  ‘You disabled the missile?’ asks Mr Conway

  Miss Harriet just looks down at the floor, trying not to get a rise out of her already risen boss.

  ‘Look at me dammit!’ he says, clenching his fist in utter anger as his breathing turns into a snarling of his throat. The sound frightens Miss Harriet but still doesn’t persuade her to look at Mr Conway.

  ‘Are you listening to me?’ he says, clearly ready to smack some sense into her.

  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 h
as 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.