Last Days Trilogy

by Jacqueline Druga

  Kyle felt foolish, keeping watch over a deserted town. This was more Herbie’s kind of work, so he dragged Herbie back out to relieve him. He told everyone he would be on “area re-con” to make sure all was well around town. But he knew he just had to get the hell out, alone, away from everyone. He also had to see something for himself.

  He wondered about the latest radio reports, events he couldn’t verify, like the news that Las Vegas was ablaze. And how people were flocking by the millions to government-sponsored refugee camps for food, shelter and an all-out God feeling.

  Kyle hit the road and cruised the perimeter of Medina County, taking the highway first, then the back roads. He was still amazed that everyone had disappeared so quickly. Kyle tried to slough it off and joke about it, but as he drove the crushing reality sunk in. His life in a world that he loved wasn’t just different; it was plain gone.

  Seth slammed his math book shut and complained. A whine with character, Marcus thought, one he wished he could get away with. “Marcus,” Seth whined his name, leaning demonstrably on his hand at the dining room table.

  “What?” Marcus tossed his hands up. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “We’ve been doing this all day.”

  “No, we haven’t,” Marcus corrected, and grabbed the reading book. “Every time we start, you stop. You’re either hungry, or tired, have to go to the bathroom, or need to finish that game. We have to learn. You have to.”

  “Why do I have to learn?”

  “Seth,” Marcus began, “schools do not exist anymore. At least for now. When the dust settles, if it does, if the trouble’s ever over, you have to be ready for whatever world there is.”

  “How’s that going to happen?”

  “Other parents out there are too scared to take the time to teach their kids.”

  “Are you being my parent, Marcus?” Seth asked.

  “I was making a reference.” Marcus felt his face burn as he flipped through the pages of the book.

  “But you don’t have a kid.”

  “No. And I probably never will. What about...”

  “I thought my mom was going to have your baby?” Seth said. “Wasn’t she?”

  “At one time. What’s with all the questions?”

  “You should have a baby with my mom.”

  Marcus was lost. Seth was rattling. “Seth...”

  “But then you’d have to kiss her.”

  Marcus grinned at Seth’s cringing face.

  The screen door slammed. Marcus looked and barely registered Reggie in a blur, then heard running footsteps on the stairs. “Your mom.”

  “Is she all right?”

  “I think.” Marcus pushed the book to Seth. “Here, read this. I’ll go see. And no games. Read.”

  “All right. All right.” Seth buried his head in the textbook.

  As he reached the stairs, Marcus heard Seth’s game on the TV. Halfway up the stairs, he heard another door slam, but couldn’t figure out which.

  He paced down the hall, listening for sound. He didn’t want to intrude or make a big deal out of it. He just wanted to make sure Reggie was all right.

  As he passed the second door, Marcus heard something in his mother’s room. He knocked briefly and looked in. Eliza paced about the bedroom, arms crossed tight, head down and crying.

  “Mom.” Marcus tapped again on the half-opened door, then pushed it open all the way and took a step inside.

  “Don’t come in here,” Eliza squeaked.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Do I look all right?” she rasped hoarsely, tears on her cheeks.

  “I just...”

  “What do you care, Marcus?”

  “Mom, please. We shouldn’t be apart right now. We’re going through the same thing.”

  Eliza stepped closer. “What do you know about what I am going through? Nothing. I hope to God, Marcus, that you never lose a child, because there is no greater pain. I lost my husband, my daughter, my granddaughter… and it’s all because of you.”

  “How... how can you say that?” Marcus stuttered, his eyes welling.

  Eliza gave a bitter laugh. “You might as well have put the weapons in the hands of those people. You and your knowledge. You always had to be so smart; always had to be different. I begged you. I begged you not to create him! But you did.” Eliza moved her hands about as she faced off her son in the doorway. “You brought the devil himself into this world. And when this world ends, Marcus, it will be on your head. And even though you don’t worship him like the fools who do, you will burn in hell with them. And, as far as I’m concerned, you are not my son. My son died with my husband, daughter and granddaughter. I have no children.” She slammed the door in his face.

  He turned, head hanging. When he lifted it, he found himself face-to-face with Michael.

  Michael stared. A second passed, eyes locked. “Marcus.”

  “Excuse me.” Marcus tried to go around him.

  “Have... have you seen Reggie? She has slipped by me rather quickly again.”

  Marcus shook his head. They heard a flushing toilet sound, followed by running water.

  Seconds later, Reggie appeared at the bathroom door right beyond Michael. Reggie took a step out, saw Michael, and tossed up her hands. “God!”

  “No, I am Michael.”

  “Stop that. And stop following me.”

  “You left me without warning.”

  “I told you I had to go,” Reggie said. Marcus retreated to the other bedroom. “Did you say something to Marcus?”

  Michael gently took hold of Reggie’s arm and pulled her toward him, whispering, “Marcus and his mother, Eliza, spoke with harsh words.”

  Reggie raised her eyes and peered down the hall.

  “He is very hurt by this.”

  Reggie said, “Michael, will you go down and teach Seth while I talk to Marcus?”

  “Yes.” Michael nodded. “May I tell him a story?”

  “Yes.” Reggie walked down the hall to Marcus’ bedroom. “Tell him about your great battle.”

  “I shall.” Michael caught up with her. “You know this means we will be separated.”

  “I’ll live,” Reggie said, reaching for the doorknob.

  “Reggie,” Michael said. “Speak little words. He has heard enough. It is your heart that he needs to hear now.” Reggie nodded. “And now Seth needs to hear my story.”

  “Michael,” she called after him. “Keep it clean. He’s only eleven.”

  Michael nodded. Reggie walked into the bedroom without knocking.

  Marcus leaned against the dresser, facing the mirror, hands pressed white on the counter top. He raised his eyes to the creak of the door and peered in the mirror’s reflection only briefly before looking down again. “Reg,” he said, his voice cracking, “please leave.”

  “No.” Reggie shut the door. “Don’t ask me to.” She moved to him slowly and silently till she brushed into him and lay her hand on his back. She let her body lean into his.

  Marcus closed his eyes tightly, his grief palpable. With each comforting stroke, Marcus at once tensed up and crumbled inside, fighting both feelings. His fingers curled up, pressing harder on the dresser’s surface. “What have I done, Reg?”

  Reggie’s only answer was a tighter embrace.

  “I single-handedly caused the end of the world,” he sighed. “The end of the world. Can you top that?”

  “No you didn’t, Marcus, and you know it.”

  Marcus shook his head ‘no.’

  “Come on,” she cooed softly. “You’re smarter than that. You are the smartest man I know. You only played with science. Man, Marcus, is the one ending the world.”

  “I created the clone.”

  “Sure you did, you’re smart, a scientist. But you couldn’t create the people who worship that clone. You’re not that good of a scientist.”

  “God will never forgive me.”

  “Bullshit. Remember Moses? And Aaron? What did Aaron
do? He created the golden calf, right? Okay, well did he worship it? Did he tell the people who betrayed Moses to worship it and turn from God? No. And did God know Aaron wasn’t to blame?”

  “This is a lot bigger scale.”

  “So what? Same difference.”

  Marcus slowly shook his head. “But I could have stopped it. Now my father and my...”

  “Marcus, stop!” Reggie whispered urgently. “I will not let you blame yourself. I won’t. Okay? The more you do, the more I will counteract you... until I’m blue in the face. I remember somebody saying to me, ‘I won’t let you blame yourself.’ Remember when I confessed to you what I told Daniel before he left that night? You’re the only person who knows what I said to him... the only one who knows that we fought and I told him I hoped he’d die. But you wouldn’t let me feel guilty.” She leaned her head into him. “All our lives Marcus, when one of us was weak, the other was so strong. That’s us. You were the one who made me walk when I didn’t want to see the sun again. You held my hand when I didn’t want to be touched. You took care of Seth when he was too painful for me to look at. And if you think I’m not going to do the same for you, then you’re nuts. I’m here. And I ain’t going no place.”

  Marcus laid his hand over hers and squeezed for all he was worth. “I’m trying to be strong.”

  “You are.”

  “No.” He shook his head, his words choking. “I’m falling apart, Reg.”

  “Yeah, well, you go on. You fall apart. It’s all right. But don’t think for one second I won’t bend down and pick up the pieces with you. I love you too much to let your life stay shattered.”

  A sob. A heartfelt, heavy sob. Marcus bounced forward and began to shake.

  “Marcus,” Reggie whispered, reaching around his body and turning him around.

  Marcus fell into her, head buried in her shoulder, arms clutching. His legs faltered beneath him. Reggie took the weight. She clenched him, cradled his head, and held him up for as long as she could before lowering him to the floor.

  They sat for an indeterminate time. Marcus’ sadness expressed itself in muffled breaths in Reggie’s arms. When his trembles finally stopped, still, he did not move.

  Reggie heard his long breath of relief as Marcus pulled back from her. His expression was one of gratitude.

  “You said a lot, Reg. Thank you.”

  “Well.” She raised her eyebrows. “I kind of ignored some heavenly advice I was given. Michael knew I was talking to you and he told me not to say too much, to let you listen to my heart.”

  “You followed his advice.” Marcus shivered. “I heard your heart very clearly.”

  “That’s because your head was right here.” Reggie nodded and pointed to her chest.

  Marcus smiled and traced a gentle path with his fingers down her chest. “And...” he took a long breath, “...speaking of guardian angels, where is yours? He was looking for you.”

  “I asked him to stay with Seth while you and I talked. He’s telling him a story about his great battle or something.”

  “Oh Reg.” Marcus moved all the way back and sat on the floor across from her. “The final battle? When heaven and hell separated?”

  “I guess,” she shrugged.

  “That could be a violent story.”

  “Marcus, please. They’re angels. How violent can they get? A slap here and there...”

  They heard Seth scream, and jumped up.

  “Mom! Mom!” Seth cried out, his voice getting closer, until he burst into the room. Without hesitation, he leapt to the bed and catapulted into his mother’s arms.

  “Seth?” Reggie put her arm around him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Him.” Seth pointed to the door to where Michael had abruptly materialized.

  Michael walked in. “He ran from me. You can tell he is your offspring.”

  “What did you say to him?” Reggie asked.

  “I was telling him the story of my battle. I was merely recounting the battle scene where arms and legs of fellow angels hung from trees as decorations of....”

  “Stop.” Reggie held up her hand and moved a clinging Seth from her legs to Marcus’. Marcus lowered his head, stifling a snicker, as he watched Reggie approach Michael.

  “You told a massacre story to an eleven-year-old boy?” Reggie demanded.

  “I told him the truth.” Michael raised his head. “It was... clean.”

  “My son is distraught.”

  “Your son moves with haste and is of little patience, like his mother,” Michael said. “And...” He stepped further into the room. “I see you two have spoken. Marcus, do you feel better?”

  “Yes,” Marcus nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Good.” Michael reached out and grabbed Reggie’s arm. “We must work. Goodbye, Marcus. Young Seth.” Without getting an argument or waiting for one, Michael led Reggie by the arm, out of the room.

  Marcus smiled at Reggie’s, “Hey, let go!” He looked down to Seth. “Okay now?”

  Seth pulled back and hopped onto the bed.

  “You weren’t really scared, were you?” Marcus asked.

  “No way. I see worse in my video games,” Seth scoffed. “He was getting boring, and my game has been on pause forever.”

  Marcus shook his head. “Go play your game.”

  “Thanks.” Seth jumped off the bed and flew toward the door. His tennis shoes squeaked when he stopped and spun to face Marcus. “Want to play? I’ll start over again.”

  “No,” Marcus shook his head. “You go on.”

  Seth shrugged and darted out of sight. Marcus started to sit, but suddenly yelled, “Seth, wait for me! I want to play.”

  The White House, Washington, DC

  “We estimate seventy percent,” said Jack Ross, formerly of FEMA. “Not too bad.”

  Leonard nodded his head, impressed. “And you’re off to the St. Louis camp today.”

  “Within the hour.” Jack looked at his watch.

  “Good to have you onboard, Jack.”

  “Where I want to be. You know I’m an apocalypse monger,” Jack snickered. “But, honestly Leo, how long am I onboard for?”

  “What do you mean?” Leonard asked.

  “With seventy percent of the cities vacated, we’re losing power left and right. Lines of communication are dropping. The Midwest has no phone service. And at last check with our military, we’re losing them in droves.”

  “I’m aware of it. Still, we have a lot of the population moving into the camps. Correct?”

  “The ones who haven’t gone to the hills or underground.”

  “Those not in camps will eventually starve. In the next two days we move everything we have to these sites, including all surplus food. We have men we can count on at every site, right? They’ll be in strict control of the armored divisions, plus the mobile greenhouses will be transported and in place soon. People will see that when the dust settles, we’ll be taking care of them.”

  “Ergo, they won’t bite the hand that feeds them,” Jack smiled.

  “Exactly.” Leonard clenched his fist. “We just need to pound in the notion that they made the right decision to leave themselves to our care.”

  “What does Devante say?” Jack asked.

  “His people are spreading the word, the good news... the gospel, as it were,” Leonard smirked. “And that’s enough for now. Everything’s falling apart, and he has to grab it. And you and I both know actions speak louder than words. What we need is one more loud action.”

  “President O’Neill.” General Admen walked into the office. “We have a situation,” the general said. “Got a call... the emergency line from Russia.”

  “What the hell do they want now?” Leonard whined.

  “It’s serious. Russia... Russia has made a last-ditch attempt to reach us.”

  “To ask for help?” Leonard asked.

  “To warn us.” General Admen tossed a folder on the desk. “Seems their strategic defense computer system went south, fro
ze... at a countdown to launch in seventy-two hours.”

  “Actions speak louder than words.” Leonard looked at Jack. “Bingo.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Seville, Ohio

  Kyle was convinced it was some sort of secret code. He tried for hours to decipher it. Michael kept insisting he “find the old flower woman” and bring her under the roof for safety. Finally, he realized it was Marcus’ old aunt Rose. Kyle went to Erie, Pa to retrieve her. He got a late start and wasn’t back until sundown, was tired and cranky when he pulled up. Everyone sat on the front porch, as if it were some ho-hum summer night. He hoped they had saved him some food.

  “Thank you, Kyle,” Aunt Rose said as he led her up the walk. “Look here, they even saved me a seat. How ya doing there, Liza? And there he is... my boy.” She hobbled her petite body to Marcus and embraced him from behind. “Lookie how grown up you got.” She smothered him with kisses. “An’ where is Reggie? I heard you two’s having a baby.”

  Marcus smiled. “That plan changed, Aunt Rose.”

  “You not having a baby? Ain’t no one told me. Is ya fooling around?”

  Marcus blushed. “Reg and I are working through things.”

  “Good boy. But where is she?” No sooner did she ask than Reggie’s plaintive voice sounded from the living room, bickering with Michael. Aunt Rose sat down in a chair Kyle held out for her.

  “Don’t ask me not to laugh,” Reggie said as she walked onto the porch.

  “Why do you mock my garment?” Michael asked, following.

  “Your skirt.” Reggie nodded.

  “It allows freedom to move and is more easily removed than those ‘blue jeans’ as you call them. Look.” Michael grabbed hold of what looked like a drawstring.

  Reggie stopped him. “We don’t expose ourselves to our loved ones,” she smiled. “It’s impolite.”

  Michael looked up, seemingly embarrassed. “I apologize.” He bowed. “Ah, I see you found the old flower woman.” He nodded to Rose.