Rage of Winter

by Sam Herrera

  “Um. Oh, David?” I buzzed the intercom on the desk. “The new interviewee has arrived.”

  “Ah hem, thank you, Mara. Show him in please.” I watched the guy half-walk, half-stagger up the stairs, unable to help feeling some pity.

  *

  I walked through the red streets, a torch in one hand and a mace canister in the other. You never knew. I passed bums on street corners, people crying, people praying and God only knew what else.

  In the bath, having made it safe, I stretched out and rotated my neck on my shoulders, trying to enjoy the cold water and to get work, and the nightmare we were all living in, out of my head. It turned out the skeleton had been Jamie Grey’s brother from Ireland, a country that had been hit the worst by the riots, the panics, the unemployment, the arson attacks and the mass religious hysteria. I suspected it had been with relief that he had taken his wife and daughter and followed little sis. I suspected also that he would be less than thrilled at the role he would be playing. New York too was being hit by attacks against all institutions, just like ours. People like Kyle were vital, desperately needed to bolster the pitiful remnants of NYPD and the National Guard. I shook my head. Shut up, Mara. I forced my mind onto another track. How long had Caleb and I been together now, one, two years? I neither knew nor cared. Time meant nothing to us; it was as though it all, the riots and shit, even the horrible red moon and black sun, just danced around our little cocoon, a small blip on the horizon. He made me feel safe, and secure, and desired. And the sex…God! The knowledge that we could die at any moment just made it better and better. What I felt for him, what we felt for each other, was so powerful it demanded fulfillment. The only thing missing was the ring.

  *

  When I walked out of the bath, that evening, there he was relaxing on the sofa, flinging his tie away, looking bruised and tired.

  “Caleb?” I stared, turning on the floodlight we used to illuminate our home, smiling as I felt what I usually felt, seeing him in all his tanned, angular glory. The bruises only made him more handsome. “What happened?”

  “Mugging,” he sighed, “as usual.” He smiled, looking over, his eyes roaming all over me. I blushed a little; suddenly hyper-aware I was dressed only in my bathrobe. The pale, ghostly light cast the hollows of his face in dark shadows. But his eyes were on me; I could see them glinting in their black pits. “It not so bad actually. Just cuts and bruises. You look great.”

  I smiled demurely.

  “You’re not so bad yourself.” He got up, walked towards me slowly and held me.

  “Caleb, what?”

  “God,” he sighed into my wet hair.

  “What?” I asked again, pulling back to look into his eyes as I gently traced the bruises with my fingers.

  “You look so good, it’s torture,” he sighed as he moved in to kiss me. I smiled into our joined mouths.

  “Aww, poor baby,” I grinned as I came up for air and shed my robe. I gasped as he roamed his hands over every inch of my naked body, leaving trails of fire. I happily complied, raising my arms, standing on tiptoe and giving a slow twirl, ballet-style, so they didn’t miss a millimeter.

  “Ya like, darlin’?” I grinned, exaggerating my accent.

  “Hell yeah, I like.”

  “Good.” I kissed him again, our tongues dueling. He grabbed me by my thighs and buttocks and lifted me onto him. I could feel him practically inside me already, though he was still dressed, and I gloried in the fact that he, as always, wanted me, needed me, just as much as I wanted and needed him. He flung me onto the couch. I began to laugh, but stopped, watching him undress. Hubba, hubba. I flung all my limbs around him as he lay on top of me, pressing every inch of our bodies together, and claiming my lips, and then my breasts, and then my stomach, and then…Oh. My. God!

  “Please, Caleb, please.” He finally took pity on me, only when I couldn’t take the teasing any more, and entered to the root. I came almost at once. But he continued to work me until the second onslaught ripped through me with an ear-splitting scream.

  “I…love…you,” I gasped into his hair, trembling from the aftershocks, my throat killing me.

  “I love you too,” he whispered, smiling into my eyes.

  *

  My eyes opened and then squinted shut against the bright red glare, coming in through the blinds. I blushed slightly, seeing neither of us had bothered to put on any clothes after our particularly energetic “night”.

  “I have to go to work,” he sighed.

  “Nooo,” I moaned in mock-sadness. He chuckled and kissed my forehead.

  “Yeah, I hate it too.”He got up and reached for his crumpled suit as I picked up my underwear.

  KYLE

  “You stay,” I told Cuffy as I tied him to the leg of my desk. He whined and licked my hand. I didn’t like being apart from him either; he was the last of my family. I stroked his head and scratched his ear as I walked out. I led my security team around the corner, armed with batons, riot shields, visors, body armor, everything. The red glow made us look like terminators. We headed for the main doors. Mara jumped behind her desk, her finger, no doubt, already on the shutter button. They had been installed for just such an event. I stared through the window at the menacing, shadowy mob beginning to gather in the street outside the building. There were a lot of them. Caleb strapped on the stab vest thrown to him by Kevin Miller, the new guy, caught the nightstick I tossed him and ran up to join us.

  “Lower the shutters as soon as the last of us are clear of the building and do not open them for anyone until you have confirmed, on the camera screens, that they are us,” I told her. She nodded and watched as the steel shutters went down, with a clanging and a grinding, behind us.

  *

  We were in for it, no doubt about it. I’d hardly recognized my home city when I had seen it for the first time, from the Winter’s cockpit, lit up in that terrible glow. The Statue of Liberty was gone; entire buildings, including the Empire State, the church and the Manhattan Mall were burning. Chaos in the streets, gangs roving the streets, looking to cause all the havoc they could simply because there was no one left to stop them. God, it truly was the end of the world. I had seen my own apartment block looted and burned until there was nothing left but a steel and ash skeleton. Officially I was homeless. But unofficially I had the Winter’s small cot to curl up in and the spare bedroom at Redstone. I didn’t care. I was glad to lie in the Winter’s white light with my loyal dog, though it made sleeping hard. I leveled my shield, in unison with the others, as the baseball cap and hoodie-sporting mob came on, wielding bats, guns and knives. We were a mixture of my UN security team and NYPD remnants all working in unison. Beside me, on my left, was Chief Rob Wilson. On my right were Dave and Caleb. I smiled and nodded approvingly at Dave, my old friend, and Wilson. This was how a man should truly lead: by example. In the few seconds before the mob closed in, I tightened my hand on my shield and braced for impact.

  *

  The dust had settled. David, Miller, Caleb, Wilson and I had, thank God, come away with cuts and bruises. The worst of it was Miller’s busted nose. The disorganized mob had, beyond doubt, come off worse. I just prayed, as a medic stitched the deep cut on my forehead, that that was the last of it. I looked around at the medical wing the foyer of the UN tower had become. Dozens of the injured were being cared for by woefully under-equipped and pitifully few medics. I smiled as Mara came in with Cuffy leading her, and leaned forward to plant a gentle kiss on Caleb’s cut, dry lips a few minutes after he’d dropped, exhausted, on the couch beside me.

  “Oh, hello,” he grinned as she pulled back.

  “I thought you were asleep.”

  “I was, but you give nice wake-up calls,” he said, getting up and kissing her back. “I’m alright.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too, beauty.”

  Even after all th
is time, I was unable to help some jealousy. I was looking at living, breathing reminders of everything I had lost. Praise. The. Lord. Annoyed, I yanked off my stab vest and, taking off my face-shield, wrung out my sweaty hair.

  “Need a medic, kid?” I asked as I crouched to pet Cuffy, glad to see him.

  “Thanks but, I’m good,” he grinned as Mara curled up beside him and put her head on his chest. I bet.

  MARA

  I smiled as I put my hands behind my head and leaned back in my chair the next day, thanking God all that was over. I had never thought I would be so glad to just sit behind this desk on a boring day, but after all that had gone on, I was overjoyed. Kyle and I smiled at each other as he walked past. His guards were still on alert outside the doors, but the worst, it seemed, was over. Thank God because we were very short-staffed; most were still recovering from their injuries. I turned to the intercom as it buzzed.

  “Hello?”

  “Mara, could you send Mr Miller up please?”Caleb’s uncle and I had been working together for a few weeks now. Though we rarely spoke except to say good morning and such. I wondered if he had any idea I was dating his nephew. Since the riots his face was one big, bandaged bruise and his nose was still well and truly busted.. I kept my face blank, but inwardly I winced. What the hell had happened to him? Had he gone charging in by himself? He looked like hell.

  “He wants to see you.”

  “Yeah, thanks, I gathered that.” Sor-ry. I sighed as he stomped up the stairs. Since what had happened everyone had been in a pissy mood.

  *

  It was a few weeks later and things were getting better. People were getting over the red “nights” and sleeping during the “day”. Plus we now had something to look forward to: everyone had turned up at nine o’clock, on the dot, to greet Matthew Karden, Secretary-General of the UN, coming to honor those who had risked life and limb to restore order to the streets of New York. Everyone was very excited. David had said they’d been friends once and I’d seen this guy’s speeches on the TV so many times. I still couldn’t help feeling slightly nervous, recalling what Chloe had told me about this, predicting this day would come, as the impressive convoy of stretch limos mounted the curb and the squad of heavies in suits walked up to the front door. Kyle and Kevin Miller dressed in, I thought, very flashy uniforms with an equally sharp-looking Caleb in tow, opened the door for them. Our eyes met for a second. I watched as the suits parted, in the lobby, to let their charges through. He was not as tall and muscular as the bodyguards, but he was still pretty tall and angular with not an ounce of fat in sight. Beside him was a chesty blonde in a sharp, brown suit. They were followed by a tall woman who was Karden’s female counterpart in every way: midnight hair, brilliant green eyes and tall, angular build. Mersiha Karden, his sister, with her arm around the shoulders of a young boy with brown hair and big, chocolate eyes. Alexander Karden, her son, the great man’s nephew. He didn’t look very happy.

  “Damn, Matt, look at you,” David blurted out.

  “Sorry, Mr Secretary,” he said hastily. But Matthew Karden just smiled, flashing perfect white teeth.

  “Matt’s fine, David. Yes, I remember you. How’s freedom treating you?”

  “It’s treating me very well, sir. Matt,” David smiled.

  “I’m glad,” Karden said, his own smile stretching even wider. It stretched a little too wide. I suspected he’d had some work done. “My wife, Nadia,” he introduced, putting a possessive arm around the waist of the blonde. “My sister, Mersiha and my nephew, Alexander.”

  “Nice to meet you.” They shook and headed for the elevator. The reason for Alexander’s scowl soon became clear: Karden ruffled his hair just like my uncles and aunts used to do with me.

  “Twat,” he muttered at Karden’s back and froze, seeing I’d heard. I just smiled and nodded.

  I gave a small sigh as the doors closed behind them. Typical, I get to share a roof with a celebrity and he has no idea I exist. I turned slowly in my swivel chair, throwing occasional, resentful glances at the silent buzzer.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, Chloe,” I said automatically. Chloe?! I looked up. Turning on my torch, I watched, stunned, the sandy, wetsuit-clad, surf board-sporting and much younger-looking figure as she grinned at me. My wide eyes followed her every move as she propped her surfboard against the desk, scattering sand all over the glass top.

  “Hi.”

  “Hhhhi. What are you doing here?” She had changed so much; she didn’t even have her facial scars.

  “Trespassing, I guess. Can I have a peanut?” I looked at the small plastic cup of nuts beside me. I’d forgotten about them.

  “Okay.” I watched, trying not to smile, as she helped herself then dropped the board and ran like hell out the door with the bodyguards on her tail.

  “What the hell?” they asked. I smiled, shaking my head.

  *

  Over lunch at the staff canteen, I told all and Kyle was having a hard time believing a word of it. “I don’t understand. I mean, Chloe? What was she doing there?”

  “She looked way younger,” I recalled.

  “Yeah?”

  “She looked about twenty and like a beach bum.”

  “Weird. We’re going to Washington,” he announced suddenly. I looked up from my sandwich, a little surprised.

  “Washington?”

  “Yeah, Karden has invited us to a summit, one of his speeches.” Now I was more than just a little surprised. We were only running one branch in New York, promoting places like a certain farm in England taking in refugees, hardly worth Washington’s notice.

  “Is it because of their past connection: David and Karden?”

  “Maybe,” he nodded. “But he did say he was very impressed by what we’ve done so far. You can come if you like.”

  “But I’d cramp your style,” I smirked.

  “Look I’m only going at all because I’m the head of security.” I nodded understandingly. “You’re not pissed?”

  “No. Go. Enjoy the capital.”

  “Sure,” he smiled, “I will.” Come back soon.

  *

  I sighed. It was a few “days” later and things were quiet and dull. The daily running of the place had been left to Kevin Miller. All he, a man more suited to peace, did was stand in, keep things organized and let me sit there. I looked at the TV high up on the wall. I’d left it on every day I came here since Karden’s visit to see if I could pick up the speech. It had been a long time coming, but Caleb had called, just now, to excitedly tell me his father was going onto the flood-lit podium. What had been the hold up, I wondered. I watched the black-suited, dark-haired figure walk up to the stand, arm-in-arm with his blonde trophy wife, followed by David, Kyle and the other UN big shots from many different countries. Karden leaned forward to kiss his wife, a small peck on the cheek. I looked away, reaching for the phone as it started ringing then dropped it, whipping my head back to the screen as three deafening explosions sounded out. I watched in dumb horror as the camera filmed Nadia Karden on the floor with her husband standing over her, a gun in his hand. Good. God, he’s killed her! Beside her was another dead body, one of the suits, lying beside her, blood pouring from two more holes in his chest. Ffffuck!

  Karden smiled at the camera as he put the gun back in his shoulder holster. Why the hell was no one doing anything? Why was no one stopping him? When he turned back, I saw his eyes were wet with crocodile tears moments before he was hustled out by security who, apart from that, didn’t lay a hand on him. I jumped as someone gripped my arm.

  “Come on,” Caleb growled, appearing from nowhere and yanking me out from behind the desk, towards the door.

  “Caleb, listen to me,” I pleaded. He didn’t. The moment we’d arrived back in our house, he’d shoved a torch in his mouth and carried on hurling all our stuff into packed suitcases with one hand.
With the other, he carried on yelling into the phone. Who’s he calling?

  “Caleb.”

  “Wha?” he growled around the torch.

  “What are you so scared of?”

  “Are you having a laugh?” he squinted, taking out the flashlight and gazing at me like I had grown two heads. “You saw what I saw.”

  “They’ll arrest him.”

  “What, like they did on the podium?” He threw my suitcase at me and then headed for the door. “C’mon, Kyle’s meeting us at Dad’s hotel room.”

  “Kyle?” I asked.

  “Yes, how do you think I got back so quickly? Come on,” he snapped impatiently. He opened the door and almost collided with the two suits standing in the doorway. “Hi?” he frowned.

  “Caleb Grey?”

  “Yeah?” The next thing I knew, Caleb was jerking and twitching on his feet, in time with a buzzing noise, a few seconds before he collapsed onto his back; thin, coiling wires coming out of his chest. I ran to him and crouched by his side as the suits leapt in and slammed the door behind them.

  “Come with us please,” the taller of the two said, shining a powerful torch in my face.

  “Who are you people?” I gasped. I felt a searing pain in my own chest and then everything went black.

  KYLE

  I turned off the TV in disgust. When I’d got home, in a daze, I’d turned it on to hear about Karden’s arrest. Huh! The world had truly gone insane. The President of the United States, Simon Cale, had just given a speech, offering Karden his condolences on his wife’s “tragic accident”. I’d been there. I’d seen that fucking maniac gun them down. Accident, my ass. What the hell was going on? Cuffy, sensing my fear, nuzzled me with his snout. One thing had been clear in my mind: David Grey, Mara and Caleb were, being as sane as I was, in terrible danger. And I’d called Caleb and told him to get Mara the hell out of America, then Dave, telling him to get his wife out. He didn’t need to be told though. He was already packing and heading for the airport. I told him to wait there for us. We would be his flight. Goddamnit, kid, where are you? I was still sitting there, stunned, when Chloe had knocked on my door, wearing a big “I told you so” smile.