Dark Apocalypse: A Post-Apocalyptic Family Saga

by Gabriel Alexander

  They got out of the car and started walking on the road, which was filled with abandoned cars. The scenery reminded them of the walks they took when their parents were still around. Long, exhausting walks across the endless road, always filled with dangers.

  Nothing behind them, nothing in front of them. Just abandoned cars and some electrical poles, which outlived their use. The wind was blowing, picking up dust. Birds chirped from nearby trees. But other than that, total silence. Nothing and no one could be seen or heard for miles.

  A shot rang out and the asphalt in front of them jumped up. The bullet hit really close to them, no more than a few inches from Thomas’s right leg.

  “Sniper!” Thomas yelled. “Take cover!”

  They both ran toward the ditch to their left and jumped in it. They lifted their heads, to see if they can see the glare of its scope.

  “Do you see anything?” Julie asked.

  “No!” Thomas answered. “He must be hidden well.”

  “Who are you?” a voice yelled. “What are you doing on our territory?”

  “We’re just travelers,” Thomas answered. “We mean no harm. We’re just passing through. We didn’t know this was somebody’s territory.”

  “No really? Why don’t you come out with your hands up so I can see you better?”

  “What guarantees do we have that you won’t shoot us?” Julie asked.

  “None. But I can tell you this: if you try to run, I will fire.”

  “Shit!” Thomas said.

  “What do we do?” Julie asked.

  “We have no choice. We have to play along.”

  “What? Are you fucking crazy? He’ll shoot us the moment we stick our heads up.”

  “And what if he won’t?”

  “I’m waiting!” the sniper yelled.

  “Coming right up,” Thomas yelled too. “Okay, Julie. On three, we get up, with our hands up, and walk up the road. One, two, three.”

  They both got up with their hands up and started walking toward the road. When they stopped, Thomas yelled:

  “Alright! We did as you said. Now show yourself!”

  From the tall grass ahead of them, a dark figure got up about three hundred yards away from them. He started walking toward them, while holding his rifle with both hands. When he got closer, his appearance could be distinguished. He was a tall man, aged about sixty, with a long, white hair and a white beard. He was wearing a torn poncho on.

  “Who are you and what’s your business around these parts?”

  “Sir,” Julie said, “we mean no harm to anyone. We’re just simple travelers, looking for a place to stay. That’s all.”

  “Really?” the old man said. “You look like rebels to me.”

  He cocked his rifle and aimed it at Julie.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa…” Thomas said, running in front of Julie. “Look, mister… we’re no rebels. But we just had a close encounter with them. They burned down our town and killed our families. Now we’re looking for a place to stay and plan our vengeance. That’s all. We mean no harm to anyone, except for the rebels. Now, if you’ll just please let us go…”

  “ You’re hunting rebels?” the old man asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Julie said. “That is exactly what we’re saying. They killed my husband and my brother’s wife and child, plus our whole town. Then, they torched the place. We were the only survivors. And now we want to find them and kill them for what they did to us.”

  The old man lowered his rifle.

  “Well, why didn’t you say so from the beginning? If you’re hunting rebels, you’re in the right place.”

  He then got closer and reached out his hand.

  “My name is Tony Jackson. But everybody calls me Ol’ Man Jackson.”

  “I’m Thomas. It’s a pleasure sir,” Thomas said.

  Julie shook his hand too.

  “I’m Julie. It’s a pleasure ,sir.”

  “Trust me, the pleasure is all mine,” Jackson said. “Come! Let me show you to the town.”

  ***

  As they were walking toward the town, Thomas suddenly asked Jackson:

  “You said that if we’re hunting rebels, we’re in the right place. How come?”

  “Well, my town is at war with the rebels.”

  “Just like all the towns in the region,” Thomas said.

  “Not quite. Some choose to pay them tribute, to be left alone. Others, like mine, decided that we’re not going to be slaves to someone else, and we rose up against their tyranny. Each and every single one of the citizens in my town decided that they will not rest until they killed at least one hundred rebels each.”

  “That’s a high number,” Julie said. “And how many people are in your town?”

  “Exactly three hundred and forty-five. And each and every single one of them, except for the children and the elderly decided that they will end the rebels’ tyranny in the region.”

  “You’re outnumbered. The rebels’ numbers are much higher than this. You’re not going to win this war with such low numbers.”

  “Like I said, there are other towns around that declared war on these sons of bitches. And some of them are more populated. And with their help, we’ll crush the rebels like a bug under a boot. Plus, we’ve got determination. And history clearly says that if you got determination, it doesn’t matter how low your numbers are, the chances are you will win.”

  “How exactly does history say that?” Julie asked.

  “Ever heard of the battle of Thermopylae?”

  “No.”

  “Three hundred Spartans faced a few hundreds of thousands of Persians. And they fought them off for hours, until eventually they were killed by the Persian archers.”

  “So they did end up killed.”

  “Yes, but before that, they wreaked havoc to the enemy side. And this goes to show that if you have determination, you can do anything, including fighting off an army way superior to yours, both in numbers and in weapons.”

  They eventually reached in front of the tall, wooden town walls.

  “It’s Jackson!” one of the guards yelled to the people below. “Open the gates.”

  Two men opened the gates for their citizen. Jackson and his two companions entered the town.

  “You brought guests, Ol’ Man?” one of the guards on the wall asked.

  “Yeah, I did. Two more people to help us fight the rebels.”

  “That’s good. Every bit of help counts.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  A woman, no older than forty-five, ran toward the trio with a pie in her hands, offering a piece of it to Julie and Thomas.

  “Welcome to our community!” she told them.

  “Thank you!” they both said at the same time.

  “Come!” Jackson told them. “I’ll take you to our leader. He’ll provide you with food, shelter, water and ammo for your weapons. This way!”

  The two followed him. The town wasn’t much. Same old one-floor houses everywhere, same old streets, same old walls, with guards on top of them for a minimal sense of security. Just like everywhere, the people varied from dirty, raggedy beggars who claimed they were sick to be spared from work and allowed to beg, to clean, well dressed, decent folks who could be told they were working hard for their community and they are dedicated to it body and soul.

  “Wow, she is beautiful,” someone said about Julie.

  “Two more mouths to feed,” a voice could be heard.

  “Here we are,” Jackson said. “Our leader’s house.”

  The house in front of them was white, one-floor, and incredibly clean. Some other houses in town were sprayed with graffiti, they were dirty as hell, and they had boards over their windows. But this one was among the exceptions.

  They climbed the porch and Jackson knocked at the door. The man who opened was young, aged about thirty-five, with boots and a brown shirt. His Kalashnikov was exposed on his shoulder.

  “Come on in, Jackson!” he said. “Who are your friend
s?”

  “Two extra recruits, in the war against the rebels.”

  “You brought more men for our cause, huh? That’s good. We need all the help we can get.”

  “Is he upstairs?” Jackson asked.

  “Yes, sir. And he is waiting for your report. Please, come in!”

  The trio entered the house and went upstairs. When they got there, they saw a large hallway, flanked by four doors.

  “This is his office,” Jackson said, pointing at the first door to the right.

  “Come in!” a voice from the other side said.

  Jackson opened the door and the trio entered. Greeting them was a man in his fifties, with a bald head. He wasn’t too fat, but not very slim either. He was wearing a white shirt and next to his desk there was an M16, equipped with an optic sight. He was reading some documents.

  After the trio entered, the leader got up from behind his desk.

  “Welcome back, Jackson! And who are these two distinguished guests?”

  “I’m Thomas and this is Julie, sir! Ol’ Man Jackson found us on the road and brought us here to you.”

  “Welcome! Welcome to my town! It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” the leader said, while shacking both of their hands. “My name is Simon Drew and I’m the leader of this fine community.”

  “The pleasure is all ours, sir,” Julie said.

  “Now, Jackson, I was expecting your report.”

  “There is nothing to report, sir. No rebels encountered today in the perimeter. Just… the two of them.

  “Nothing special, huh? That’s good. That’s really good.”

  Simon then looked at Thomas and Julie.

  “And what about you two? Are you married? Jackson, you are free to go. I want to talk to them.”

  “Yes, sir!” Jackson said, before turning around and exiting the door.

  “No, sir, we’re not married,” Thomas said. “We’re brother and sister.”

  “Oh, I see. Where are you from?”

  “Well, for the last twenty years, we lived in a town called Fullerton, about fifty miles from here.”

  “Okay. And before that?”

  With tears swelling in his eyes, Thomas told him everything: about his mother and father who gave their lives for their children, about the crucifixion of his wife and son, and about the days he waited for the last embers of Fullerton to snuff themselves out so he could pick up the pieces and move on.

  “I see,” Simon said. “Well, if you’re looking for vengeance, then you’re in the right place.”

  He got up from his chair behind the desk, went to the window and started looking outside.

  “Our townsfolk like to call themselves “rebel killers.” We have been at war with those sons of bitches for two years now, ever since their new leader rose to power.”

  “New leader?” Thomas asked.

  “Yes, new leader. Before this… youngster could grab the power, our town, like many others, sick and tired of being attacked by those bullies, decided to strike peace with their former leader. We did just that. We struck a deal with them. We would give them twenty percent of our crops and meat each month, and in return, they would leave us alone. And that’s exactly what happened for eighteen years. Then, two years ago, their leader died and this snotty kid took over. And one day, he came to us and told us that he wants eighty percent of our crops and meat every month, in return for leaving us alone. What on earth were we going to eat, should we have accepted that? I obviously said no, and… here we are. At war with those bastards for two years.”

  “You keep calling their leader “youngster” or “snotty kid,” Julie said. “Is he young?”

  “Oh, he is young, allright. He can’t be more than nineteen or twenty. And he is bad to the bone. Three days ago, his boys caught four of our men a couple of miles east of here, scavenging in a shop. Realizing they were outnumbered, they tried to surrender, but he ordered his goons to shoot them right in the head. He has no mercy in him whatsoever. He is a sadistic murderer and a bully, just like his whole gang of thugs.”

  There was silence for a few seconds.

  “Sir, we’ll help too,” Thomas said. “I know it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

  “It’s more than enough, as long as you do your job properly and waste as many of those fuckers as you can. And in return for that, I’ll give you as much food, water, shelter and other necessities as you need. Plus a roof over your head.”

  “We appreciate it, sir,” Thomas said. “And speaking of shelter, where will we be checked in?”

  “You can stay in my house. I’ve got two available rooms, since my wife and two kids died of the flu ten years ago.”

  “Oh… sorry to hear that,” Julie said.

  Simon opened the door to his office and walked into the hallway, followed by Thomas and Julie. Then, he went in front of another door and opened it. He looked at Julie and said:

  “This will be your room, young lady!”

  Julie got in and said:

  “Wow! It’s beautiful!”

  The room was beautiful, indeed. The walls were painted blue, the window had a curtain with red, blue and yellow flowers sewn on them and the bed and everything on it was white clean, from the pillows to the quilt.

  “This was our bedroom when my wife was still alive. Boy, the happy moments we lived here. I left it like this since the day she died. Ever since then, I haven’t set foot in this room. Too many memories prevented me from doing so.”

  “It’s gorgeous,” Julie said. “Thank you, sir!”

  “My pleasure. Come, Thomas! Let me show you to your room.”

  Simon and Thomas got out in the hallway and headed toward another door, right next to the previous one. Simon opened it and let Thomas get in first. Thomas was surprised when he entered. Next to the bed, there were a lot of toys: dolls, cars, chalk, magnetic letters. The walls were painted pink and the window had no curtain. Next to the bed, a set of drawers greeted them.

  “It’s… nice,” Thomas said.

  “This was my kids’ room. I guess you can tell by the lively colored walls and the toys. I wanted to throw them away, but… they’re way too important for me.”

  “They don’t bother me. Quite the opposite. They remind me of my sister when she was younger. That doll over there, for instance, looks just like Julie’s Diana.”

  “Okay. I’ll let you settle in. Two hours from now, I’ll be waiting for you and Julie at the warehouse. You can’t miss it. It’s the largest building in town. Everybody will be there. It will be a meeting regarding our state of war with the rebels. You are free to speak your opinions and make suggestions. Until then, I’ll let you rest. But I am waiting for you and Julie. And I would appreciate it if you weren’t late.”

  “We won’t be, sir.”

  “Okay. See ya!”

  “See ya!”

  Simon walked out and closed the door behind him. Thomas then sat on the bed and put his hands on his head. He started thinking about Carla and Fred. About all the people in Fullerton who died because of him and Julie. For as long as he lived, he would have them on his conscience. And it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he survived and all those people, including his wife, child, and his sister’s husband, died in such horrible ways. All because of him and Julie and their dead parents. If only they wouldn’t have gone hunting that day. If only they would have stayed. Maybe only they would have died and the rest of the people, including their families, would have survived. Maybe Fullerton would not have been razed. One thing was certain: the guilt will be with him forever.

  He grabbed his hair and tried to pluck it out of his head. He then started crying, thinking about the atrocities that occurred back in Fullerton. He was crying hard, knowing that he will never see his family again.

  ***

  Julie was lying on her bed. She was thinking of Bill and Sophie, her parents. She was thinking about their rule of not staying in a place for more than a week.

  “What have we done
? Why haven’t we listened to you, mom and dad? Why did we have to settle in a place for twenty years? Why couldn’t we just listen to you and stay in a place for just a week or even less? Those people wouldn’t be dead. God, what have we done?”

  Then, she started thinking about Darryl.

  “I swear to you, Darryl,” she kept saying in her mind, “I swear to you that I will find the sons of bitches who did this to you and I will make them pay. I will not rest until I do. I will not rest until I’ll know that your soul does. I will avenge you, my dear husband. Be sure of that.”

  ***

  After searching for a while, eventually they found the warehouse. And as they got closer to it, their suspicions were confirmed. Absolutely all the citizens of the town were inside, looking at Simon, who was sitting on a platform in the back.

  “Welcome!” Simon yelled after seeing them coming in. “Please, join us!”

  The duo was mixing with the crowd, and they were elbowing people to make way for them to get in front, excusing themselves in the process. Eventually, they reached a spot where they could properly see Simon and they stopped there.

  “Greetings, ladies and gentlemen and welcome to tonight’s meeting,” Simon said to the crowd. “Tonight’s subject of debate is our state of war with the rebels.”

  Upon hearing the last word, people spat, and booed.

  “Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we all hate the bastards. Until two years ago, we were many. There were more than a thousand of us living in our beautiful community.”

  “One thousand six hundred and thirty-four,” a man yelled in the crowd.

  “Yes, thank you for the exact number, Pete,” Simon said. “Some of us were killed in battle, some of us were killed cowardly by their snipers or patrols while going out scavenging.”

  “My son was killed cowardly by those bastards,” a woman in the crowd yelled. “He was just fourteen years old. He was out looking for berries and those bastards sniped him. They shot him right in the heart. He’d done nothing wrong, I tell you. Nothing wrong. His only fault was that he was in the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” some people in the crowd said.

  “Yes, Martha, thank you for reminding us. We had a deal with them, which at first was acceptable. But then they got greedier and wanted more. And we couldn’t accept that, could we?”