This is the End 2: The Post-Apocalyptic Box Set (9 Book Collection)

by J. Thorn

  “Sully. Jesus Christ.” John let go of his weapon. “I hope you have a cold beer I can use to keep my face from swelling.”

  “Be glad I didn’t shoot your ass when I saw you climbing the hill.”

  John smiled and accepted Sully’s hand. The President of the Keepers of the Wormwood pulled John to his feet.

  “What the hell are you guys doing all the way over here?”

  “Long story. We’re not about to pass up an opportunity to fight these bastards.”

  “Thanks,” John said.

  “For what? We didn’t come here to save your hide. Is that your buddy down there trying to crawl up the hill?”

  John turned and saw Alex moving toward them. His face turned pure white and his hair was plastered to his forehead.

  “Yeah.”

  “You’d better get down there and help him out. Dude looks like he’s about to collapse.”

  Sully’s men maneuvered through the cemetery. Together they loaded Alex into the back of the truck where one of the biker chicks began working on his shoulder. Sully drove back onto Mayfield Road and headed away from town, toward Cleveland Heights. John sat next to him in the truck and looked at the caravan of three vehicles as they moved around abandoned cars and buildings marked with the sign.

  “This shit doesn’t bother you, does it?” John asked.

  “Not really. This is how we live. When you’re not part of society, you don’t miss it when it goes to hell.”

  “Where are we headed?”

  “Your buddy is in bad shape. You’d better hope Crystal can fix him up.”

  “Where are we headed?” John said again.

  “Chill, man. Nobody is going to fuck with you when you’re with us.”

  “I appreciate that, Sully, but that’s not what I’m concerned about. I need to get back to my place and see if I can find my wife. I need to know if she’s alive, and if she is, I need to find her.”

  Sully turned the truck onto another street.

  “Maybe we can help you. There ain’t much the Keepers hold sacred, but family is definitely up there.”

  The truck rolled to a stop in front of an abandoned school on Cedar Road. Sully killed the engine and tapped the bed of the truck. Crystal and two men helped Alex out and carried him inside. Alex’s skin had turned gray and his eyes seemed to roll around in the sockets.

  “Your pal has lost a lot of blood,” one of the men said to John.

  “I know,” John said.

  Sully led John through a maze of corridors until they arrived in what used to be an auditorium. The place stunk of cigarette smoke and rotten paper. On the stage, a bunch of milk crates and old lawn chairs sat around a fire ring.

  “Home sweet home,” Sully said.

  John sat down and rubbed his burning eyes.

  Chapter 33

  The sun crawled through the heavy curtain of the storm front. Renegade geese flew over the frozen land in a V formation. Cold moisture glistened off the black asphalt.

  Commander Byron poured a hot cup of coffee from one of the pots setup in the auto shop. The soldiers rigged an outlet to a car battery which gave them enough power to brew it. Byron placed the end of his knife in the cup and mixed a packet of sugar into the black coffee. The first sip stung his tongue and paralyzed his taste buds before allowing the pleasant, bitter bite to take hold.

  Sometimes life is about simple pleasures, he thought.

  The two soldiers from across the street now stood guard at the front of the shop. Byron debriefed the men who saw nothing during the course of the night, save for stray animals. The three men drank coffee and smoked.

  Byron dug in his pockets for the satellite phone. The black plastic sparkled in the winter glaze. He made the call and finalized the plan with Sully. Byron considered smashing the phone to pieces on the sidewalk but hesitated. He shoved it back into his pocket and hoped he would not need it again.

  ***

  “That smells great,” Jana said.

  One of the guards unlocked her door earlier in the morning and she’d wandered from the room. The commander stared at her. Jana’s hair fell down upon her shoulders. She wore a tight T-shirt. Her jeans rode low on ample, curvy hips. Byron snickered as the other soldiers stole glances.

  “Come, join us,” Byron said.

  He surveyed the damage to her delicate face from the night before. When the swelling went down and the purple bruises subsided, she would heal. Except for the missing teeth.

  “I’m sore, you son of a bitch.”

  “I am truly sorry you brought that pain upon yourself. I am not enjoying much of the torturing of women. I hope you see this.”

  Jana drew her finger across a swollen lip and winced.

  “I’m not convinced of that.”

  Byron handed her a cup of hot coffee. She held it to the corner of her mouth and attempted to pour it into her throat. The liquid struck the open, raw wounds of her mouth and she dropped the cup to the floor. She glared at Byron through tears of pain.

  “It will heal faster than you think.”

  “Don’t talk down to me. I’m a nurse. I know what it will take. And I know that teeth don’t grow back.”

  “Can we move past the hostility and work together?”

  “As long as I’m your prisoner, there is no working together. You’d better remember if you let your guard down for one second, I’ll do my best to cut your throat.”

  Commander Byron smiled. He motioned to the guards. They appeared on each side of Jana and one of them grabbed her by the shoulder.

  “There is no need to spill any more blood, or coffee. Both are valuable liquids, are they not?”

  Jana let her body go limp and slid into the chair. The guards stepped back but stayed within arm’s reach of her.

  “Beautiful and wise, a nice combination.”

  Jana rolled her eyes.

  “Today we are marching back towards your house. We must find John and then report to Father. If you do not incite a fight, you will not find one. My men are expert marksmen. They will eliminate any threats to our movement on my command. Gather your things together. We leave in twenty minutes.”

  “I thought we were going to Reggie’s house,” Jana said.

  “Sometimes plans change, my dear.”

  “Christ. Why can’t you let us be?”

  “I have my orders and I will follow them. When man discards orders, society breaks down. Go pack.”

  Jana turned and stomped into the storeroom. She packed a bag of loose clothes from Sally. She thought about her and Jay and decided it would not do any good to speculate. She tossed pieces of beef jerky, her battered cell phone and a bottle of water into the bag. Then the commander searched her stuff for any potential weapons, scissors or nail file. He did not find any.

  Commander Byron and his two guards had their backs to Jana when she exited the storeroom. The one on the left looked over his shoulder to let her know they were watching her. Jana sighed and lamented the slim possibility of her escape.

  The group set off at a fair pace and, for a man with a cane and limp, Commander Byron made good time. The foursome stuck to the main avenues and traveled east away from downtown Cleveland. The guards kept their rifles angled toward the side of the road and the commander walked directly behind Jana.

  They covered nearly seven miles. As five o’clock neared, the early arrival of the November night swallowed the day. The group stopped at a crossroads. A bank stood on one corner with a service station across from it. On the other side of the street, a Phoenix Coffee sat next door to a Chinese restaurant. All of the businesses contained gaping windows and no movement.

  “The Phoenix. I like the name of that place. Maybe they will have more coffee,” Byron said.

  The two soldiers held up a hand, signifying that Jana and Byron were to wait outside until they could secure the building.

  Byron removed a silver cigarette case from his pocket. He opened it and drew out a hand-rolled smoke. He offered one to
Jana but she refused.

  “I pulled this from a dead soldier in the hills of Kabul. The bullet that killed him entered his heart inches from the pocket that held this. I cannot read the inscription on it so I often look at it and try to imagine what it says. Some days, it is a message of hope and other days it is one of vengeance.”

  “I’m cold,” Jana said.

  “I didn’t think I would make it out of that godforsaken country alive,” the commander said, ignoring her interruption. “Afghanistan is the most wretched place on earth. In the summer, it is dusty, hot and filthy. In the winter, the cold will burn your fingers and toes right off. And the women, they cover themselves from head to foot. There is no, shall we say, recreation for a soldier in that place. The tobacco kept me sane.”

  Jana sat on the curb and stared at the remnants of a Styrofoam cup while the commander spoke. She thought about the person who purchased that cup in another lifetime. He was on his way to work perhaps, stopping in for a quick shot of caffeine and a buzz to start his day. Before the rest of her daydream could unfold, the two soldiers came back out of the coffee shop.

  “All clear,” they said to Commander Byron.

  The foursome spent an uneventful night in the Phoenix. In the morning, the commander managed to find coffee beans. They’d brought the car battery power with them and were able to get a drip machine running. Most of the shop sat in shambles. An explosion had ripped out the main sitting area leaving a substantial gap in the roof. Wind blew snow and rain through it which ruined most of the product in the coffee shop.

  They headed east again. Jana recognized the streets but struggled to recognize the places. The buildings sat void of all life. She never realized how much humans influenced the mosaic of the neighborhood. In the afternoon, they picked up Mayfield Road. She knew they were getting close to Plainfield Road. However, the commander’s pace slowed. The toll of the hike robbed him of his energy. They took longer and more frequent breaks. His limp became more pronounced and they covered half as much distance as they did the day before.

  They entered a floral shop and were greeted with the sweet smell of roses. Inside, most of the cooler units and display cases stood empty. The lingering smell of flowers lifted Jana’s spirits. She found a handful of dried flowers in one corner and scooped them into her bag. Unlike the previous night’s stops, the back room of the flower shop was in disarray. The floor held two inches of water that poured in from an open back door and a hole in the roof.

  “Looks like we’ll all be sharing this room tonight,” Byron said.

  Jana sat in a corner and pulled her knees up to her chest.

  “We are a mile from your home. Tomorrow we will arrive. I must remind you that if you try anything, anything at all, I will have these men fill you with holes. I have an order but I will not jeopardize us for you.”

  Jana ignored him, kicking the remains of a vase across the littered floor.

  “I have to go,” Jana said.

  “Escort her,” Byron said to the soldier nearest him.

  “Can you show some decency? Where am I going to go?”

  “Nowhere because you will be escorted. Go with her.”

  The man followed Jana through the store and out the back door. She found a half wall separating one parking lot from the next. Jana stepped over it and squatted. The soldier could see her from the shoulders up. Jana stared right through his cold eyes while relieving herself. She stood and pulled her pants up at the same time. The soldier’s eyes never left hers.

  Each man took a corner of the store for their personal sleeping space. The soldier that escorted Jana outside sat across from her while the other one stood guard at the front door. The commander fell asleep. His snores rattled the existing glass inside the shop.

  “If you come near me I will slit your throat,” Jana said.

  The soldier grinned through yellowed teeth.

  ***

  “Sir, there is movement on Mayfield.”

  “Where?”

  “A mile or so out. The flower shop.”

  The sergeant overseeing the house on Plainfield Road stiffened.

  “Radios off. Get a patrol to recon. Do not engage and do not reveal yourselves. Get back here in one hundred twenty minutes with an update.”

  The soldier trotted away. Another joined him as they moved south on Plainfield toward Mayfield Road hoping to keep the mission intact and not incur Father’s wrath.

  Chapter 34

  “There is heavy shit going down.”

  John opened his eyes and thought for a second that a rebellious Viking warrior escaped from Valhalla. Sully’s red hair surrounded his upper body. He braided his beard in various places. A black, leather vest struggled to hold the bulk of man inside. Numerous patches and symbols covered the vest, many of which meant nothing to John. Sully wore a black holster over one shoulder and rested it on his left hip. His eyes revealed turmoil, but a certain level of excitement as well.

  “Why bother to help after you ditched us at the Jigsaw?” John asked.

  “Pure luck, brother. It’s like I tried to tell you before. We were in the area, heard gunfire and jumped in the fray. Didn’t know it was you until I put my crosshairs on your chest.”

  John laughed with an uncomfortable tick. “Don’t know whether to thank you or run.”

  “You might wanna do both,” Sully said.

  Crystal appeared at Sully’s right and whispered into his ear. Sully’s expression did not change. She walked back behind the stage to check on Alex.

  “He’ll be okay, but he ain’t goin’ anywhere. Dude’s lost a lot of blood and we got no way of fixing that. Only time can replenish it.”

  “How long?”

  “Crystal thinks maybe a week or two. It all depends on the shape his body is in and how quickly it can heal. Settle in, dude. We’ve got plenty of beer and women to go around.”

  John’s face flushed and he balled his fists at his sides. “I can’t wait.”

  Sully handed a beer and bottle opener to John. He paused and raised one eyebrow. “Huh?”

  “It’s like I tried to tell you. I gotta get to my wife. I know she’s alive and I think I know where she’ll be.”

  Sully popped the top off of the beer and let the bottle cap roll through his feet and over the edge of the stage. It landed with a puny clink as it hit the concrete floor of the first row.

  “I’m listenin’.”

  “I need to get back to my house on Plainfield. If she’s alive, I know she’ll be there. Can’t say for sure, but I think our neighborhood was one of the first to come under attack. It’s been long enough that I doubt they’re patrolling that street anymore. I think she’ll be there hoping I show up.”

  “And then what?” Sully asked. “You gonna hang your Christmas decorations?”

  John’s face dropped.

  “It’s what I gotta do, and I can’t wait weeks for Alex to get better and join me. I’m asking you to either let me go alone or join me.”

  Sully put the beer up to his mouth. John watched Sully’s facial scars twitch. Sully wiped the beer froth from his beard with the back of his left hand.

  “Fuck me. I’m always up for spilling blood.”

  John sighed and sat back on his milk crate until his head rested on the wall.

  “Can we leave now?”

  “Slow down there, cowboy. I gotta get the boys rounded up, decide who’s going, smoke a blunt. Let’s party tonight and we’ll push out at the crack of dawn tomorrow. How’s 11 a.m.?”

  John’s mouth twisted toward a grin and then pulled back to a thin smile.

  “If that’s what it takes.”

  “Why don’t you go and check on your buddy? Crystal says he’s come around. He’s weak but at least you can tell him what’s going on.”

  Crystal appeared next to John and took him by the hand. He followed the sway of her hips up to the flaming dragon tattoo on her lower back. Stretch marks crawled out from under frayed jeans and behind the top of la
ced panties. Crystal spun to smile at John, revealing crow’s feet and streaks of temple gray.

  John followed the woman through a maze of old sets and stage props, which hadn’t been used for productions in a long time and probably wouldn’t be for many more. He walked under the yawning hole in the ceiling.

  Crystal stopped in the doorway of a dressing room and held up one arm, pointing to Alex’s cot. Once John entered, she disappeared back toward the stage.

  Alex was on his back, boots off underneath the cot. A musty, blue moving blanket covered him from feet to neck. John crept into the room and heard Alex’s breathing. It was uneven and ragged but consistent. As John approached Alex’s head tilted up.

  “Ah, it’s you. I’d much prefer a biker babe in a Catholic schoolgirl’s outfit.”

  “Sorry to disappoint but I only wear that for Jana.”

  Alex began to laugh but it took a violent turn toward a cough. When the bout ended, a trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. John winced a little.

  “Sorry, man.”

  Alex pulled his hand from underneath the blanket and waved it at John.

  “Not your fault. You shouldn’t have to warn a man before you make him laugh.”

  “So what’s the deal? Is there anyone here who can give you an accurate update on your situation?”

  “Our talkative friend Crystal gave Sully a report. From what I could understand through beer spittle and secondhand smoke, I was hit in the leg, shoulder and chest. The leg wound grazed the surface and the other bullet went clean through my chest. He said Crystal is worried about my shoulder because the slug is still in there. I’ve lost so much blood, if she tried getting to it, I could bleed out. On the other hand, if she leaves it until I start to heal, there is a high risk of infection. So that’s where we are. I’m not sure I’ve decided what I want them to do.”

  “Are you sure they’re going to give you a choice?”

  “No, not really. I’ve got vials of drugs we took from my office that haven’t been smashed to shit through our little adventure. I’m thinking about asking Sully to let Crystal try digging it out. I can dope myself up real good and, if I do go, I’ll go out on a nice high. I can’t imagine letting infection eat me from the inside out. No one should have to go that way.”