Dark Apocalypse: A Post-Apocalyptic Family Saga

by Gabriel Alexander

  She started crying.

  “He died like an animal, in an agony that is impossible to describe. He kept begging for mercy, but he wasn’t shown any. It took three hours for him to die from bleeding and shock. He died painfully.”

  She stopped for a few seconds, then she continued:

  “They then untied me and they raped me. One of them put a gun to my head and he said, with a smirk on his face: “My cock in your mouth or a bullet in your brains? What will it be?” I guess it’s obvious what I chose.”

  “Jesus Christ!” Thomas said.

  “They raped me in all the possible ways imaginable, until I managed to grab one’s gun and shoot all of them. From that day forward, I would give my left hand to be able to kill as many of those fuckers as possible. And the battle coming today is my best chance to do so.”

  “Melissa, I’m so sorry. I...”

  “Don’t be. There is nothing you should be sorry about. And I don’t care if I survive today or not. As long as I will kill some rebels before they kill me and thus have my revenge, I’m cool.”

  Thomas put his hand over hers.

  “If we’re determined enough, we’ll defeat those bastards. Even if we’ll lose a lot of men in the process. And you’ll have your revenge. I promise you.”

  “I sure hope so.”

  ***

  Thomas was standing on the wall. He had a pair of binoculars around his neck, even though it was still dark outside. His arms twitched. And he was shaking like a leaf in the wind. He took his Kalashnikov from his shoulder and started gripping it tightly in his hands. He kept telling himself, in his mind, that he is ready. He is ready to fight those bastards, even if he dies in the process. He is ready to avenge his family. He will fight for Carla and Fred, for his mom and dad. He will make them all proud.

  Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him. He didn’t know who it was, but he didn’t turn around.

  “It’s two o’clock, my friend,” the voice behind him told him. “One more hour ‘till sunrise. One more hour ‘till some of us will meet their maker.”

  He turned around. It was Simon, with a torch in his hand and his weapon on his shoulder.

  “Something tells me I already know what the outcome of this battle will be,” Thomas said.

  Simon came next to him and started looking at the horizon as well.

  “Yeah, well, we’re not stupid, kid. We all know we’re outnumbered and outgunned. None of us have the grand illusion that some miracle will happen and we’ll defeat the rebels. The exact opposite is what’s going to happen and everybody knows that.”

  “Then why don’t you run?”

  “And go where? Some other place where, eventually, they will find us and harass us again? No, buddy. Every single man, woman and child in this town is tired of running.”

  “You should at least evacuate the children and the elderly.”

  “Like I said, they have nowhere else to go. Without us, they’ll starve to death. Or worse, they’ll be killed by wild beasts. No, man. Nobody is going anywhere. This is our town. These are our homes and we will die trying to defend them. There is nothing more honorable than this.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  “Of course I’m right. Besides, we won’t be the first ones to die for our lands. History is full of nations who died for their lands. Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Adolph Hitler… they all had illusions of grandeur and decided to conquer lands that didn’t belong to them. But the people from those territories stopped at nothing from defending them from the enemy armies. And in the process of defending their lands from the invaders, they died for their homes. And for that, history remembers them as heroes. Or here’s another example: the Native Americans. Ever since Columbus first set foot on the New World, the natives never stopped fighting for the land that was rightfully theirs, even though in the end, they were massacred by the invading Europeans. And for that, history honors them.”

  “Yep, you’re right indeed.”

  The sky at the horizon suddenly started becoming red.

  “Look!” Simon told Thomas, while pointing forward. “The sun is rising.”

  “Yes, which means that the rebels will soon be here to hear our answer for their offer,” Thomas said.

  “Yeah. We’ll give them an answer they’ll never forget.”

  Simon took a closer look at Thomas.

  “You’re shaking, kid. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “You’re scared. Is that it?”

  Thomas sighed.

  “Yeah, I’m scared. Why lie?”

  Simon put his hand on his shoulder and told him:

  “There is no shame in being scared, kid. Quite the opposite. It’s not humanly possible to be fearless before a fight.”

  “Yeah, I know, but… I mean… it’s not the first time I’m fighting the rebels. I’ve been through this before. I shouldn’t be afraid.”

  “But you are. And that’s because you don’t know when death will come for you. It could come today, during the battle, it could come tomorrow, or it could come years from now. Nobody knows when they will die. And that’s why we’re afraid.”

  “Ironic, isn’t it?” Thomas said, scoffing. “Everybody dies. That is a certain fact. And we are all afraid of death, even though we all know that at one time, it will inevitably come for us.”

  “That’s because death is an ambiguity, my friend. It’s basically venturing in the unknown. It’s just like entering in unknown woods. You don’t know whether you’ll get lost or not or if you will be attacked by a wild animal or not. It’s the same with death. No one has come back from the dead to tell us what’s beyond. Do we go to Heaven if we led good, decent lives and we took care of the poor? Do we go to Hell if we were assholes during our lifetimes, to be tormented by eternal flames and the Devil’s minions, who stick forks in our asses and boil us in huge cauldrons, filled with hot tar for all eternity? Do we go nowhere, like the atheists say? No one knows. And everyone is afraid to know. That’s the human nature.”

  “How philosophical and poetic of you,” Thomas said.

  “Before The Alignment I was a philosophy teacher at the Philadelphia University.”

  “Bullshit! You were a teacher before all this?”

  “And a very good one. My students used to love me. But that was a very long time ago.”

  Simon was silent for a few seconds.

  “Kid, you and your sister owe us nothing. You don’t have to die here for us and our personal beliefs. There’s still time for you to leave.”

  “No, sir,” Thomas said. “I’ll stay right here and kill the bastard who murdered my family. And knowing Julie, she will do the same. Even if it kills us. And if we’ll die, we’ll die for our beliefs, not yours.”

  The sun started rising at the horizon.

  “How about that view, kid?” Simon asked Thomas.

  “It’s beautiful. Very beautiful. I guess nature has its moments.”

  “And what a moment this is. I don’t know about you, kid, but seeing the sunrise gives me enough optimism to fight ten battles.”

  “Yeah. It has that effect.”

  Suddenly, a sound could be heard at the horizon.

  “Is that…?” Simon asked.

  Thomas looked through the binoculars. And what he saw terrified him.

  “Shit! Rebels. Tons of them. Tens, maybe hundreds of cars heading this way. And… shit! I see three cars with mortars on the trailers.”

  “Shit. We’re no match for those.”

  “No shit, genius. Stay right here. I’m gonna go sound the alarm.”

  “Got it. Please, hurry!”

  Thomas got off the wall and headed toward the alarm bell. When he reached it, he grabbed the rope attached to it and he started ringing it.

  “Incoming rebels! Incoming rebels! Hide the children and the elderly, grab your weapons and come to the walls. Incoming rebels!”

  People started running and passing on the mess
age to those who were too far to hear it. And right after the message was heard by everyone, the entire town started to hide the children and the elderly in the basements or in other places they thought it was safe for them to stay. And right after they did that, they grabbed their Kalashnikovs, M-16s and other types of weapons at their disposal and some of them started climbing the wall, while others opened the gates and took positions behind the metal plates in front of the gates, which were going to act as shields against the enemy bullets. Two folks then closed the gates behind them and headed up on the wall.

  Julie and Melissa both came next to Thomas and Simon.

  “This is it, huh, big bro?” Julie asked Thomas.

  “Yeah, little sis, this is it,” Thomas answered.

  “Alright, people, get ready!” Simon yelled.

  “Get ready!” someone else yelled.

  “Get ready!” another person yelled to those who didn’t hear the first call.

  The townsfolk up the walls and in front of the gates all aimed their weapons at the incoming rebels, who were fast approaching. There were at least one hundred trailer cars and trucks, each filled with at least ten rebels. It was obvious that the townsfolk were outnumbered.

  Drake Junior was riding shotgun in one of the trucks, with Derek next to him still on a leash.

  “We’re approaching your town, doggy,” Drake Junior told Derek. “Aren’t you excited to hear your people’s answer to my terms?”

  “Yes, sir, I am,” Derek said, with low enthusiasm.

  “Oh, come on, doggy. If your people say what I want to hear, they’ll get to live. Cheer up. I’m sure they made the right decision.”

  The townsfolk had itchy fingers. The tension in the air was high. They all couldn’t wait to pull the trigger and waste as many of those bastards as possible.

  “Wait!” Simon yelled.

  Suddenly, Drake Junior heard in his walkie-talkie:

  “Sir, they are waiting for us with their weapons ready, sir, over!”

  “Roger that. Do not fire, unless fired upon. I repeat: do not fire unless fired upon, over!”

  “Roger that, sir, over!”

  “Well, little doggy,” Drake Junior told Derek, “it appears that your people might have made the wrong decision after all. But no problem. We were ready for that as well. If they want war, then war is what they’ll get.”

  Derek sighed and started praying for his people.

  The rebels were getting closer.

  “Wait!” Simon yelled.

  You could cut the tension in the air with a knife. “Come on, just give us the order already,” that’s what was in everybody’s minds.

  “Wait!” Simon yelled again.

  The rebels’ cars and trucks were getting closer and closer. Everybody just wanted to fire, but they couldn’t. Not without their leader’s permission. Some of them were starting to sweat.

  Finally, the cars and trucks were in firing range. This is what Simon was waiting for. He lowered his arm and yelled:

  “Fire!”

  “Fire!” someone else yelled.

  “Fire!” another voice could be heard.

  The townsfolk didn’t have to be told twice. They immediately started firing at the cars and trucks heading toward them. The first spray of bullets hit a truck, killing the two passengers and the driver and causing the wheeled mammoth to flip over and slide a few meters on the road and injure the rebels in the back. As soon as they pulled themselves together, the rebels in the downed truck started getting out, from the back, but as soon as they popped out and started to run, the townsfolk shot at them. From its twenty occupants in the back, only four managed to escape the hail of bullets fired by the townsfolk, and ran backward, at the rest of the cars, which, meanwhile, stopped.

  The truck carrying Drake Junior was no exception. It stopped about three hundred yards away from the wall, as soon as the townsfolk started raining bullets. Drake Junior got out, alongside the driver and Derek. He then put his walkie-talkie at the mouth.

  “I want the mortar units one hundred yards away from the walls. The rest of you, get as close as you can and waste the motherfuckers. Over!”

  “Roger that!” the answer quickly came from the three mortar trucks.

  “Roger that, over!” he heard from all his other men.

  He took his gun from his holster and aimed it at Derek’s head.

  “Well, it would appear your people chose wrong. Which means I cannot take you back to them. Which means I only have one option for you now.”

  “No, please no. Plea…”

  He couldn’t finish his sentence. The spray of blood was as big as a spurt of a fountain.

  Seven cars, each with ten rebels in the trailer, stopped next to the wall. The townsfolk aimed and let them have it. They killed three of the drivers and some of the rebels in the trailers, but some managed to jump out and hide behind the cars, from which they started to return fire. The first rounds fired by the rebels hit about five townsfolk, killing four and injuring Ol’ Man Jackson in the shoulder. The rest of the bullets hit the metal plates they were hiding behind. The wooden wall splintered with every impact.

  “I’m hit! I’m hit!” Ol’ Man Jackson said.

  “Stop complaining, you pussy, and keep fighting!” the woman on his left said.

  “That’s easy for you to say, you stupid cunt. You’re still fine.”

  The man to his right grabbed him by the hand and said:

  “Okay, let me see. Let me see.”

  He took a look at his injury and said:

  “You’re bleeding. Go patch yourself up and then come back. Hurry!”

  “Okay.”

  As soon as he got up, a bullet hit him in the head. He died instantly and collapsed on the ground.

  Otherwise, the rebels found it hard to make casualties among the townsfolk. Both the ones on the walls and those in front of it were protected by the metal plates they attached a day earlier, in anticipation of the battle. The rebels had no choice but to aim at their heads, in order to produce casualties. And without a scope, this was pretty difficult. Sometimes, they would get lucky and hit some townsfolk in the head, but most of the times, it was the metal plates and the wall.

  Meanwhile, the rebels behind the cars closer to the wall opened the doors of the cars and started firing from behind them, in an attempt to protect themselves from the bullets. But the strategy didn’t work. Four rebels got hit right after they took cover behind the doors, three in the chest, through the windows, and one in the head. And the townsfolk up on the walls now had a better aim at them. Six more rebels got hit by the people on the walls right after the first four deaths provoked by the locals in front of the wall.

  “Reloading!” Thomas yelled.

  “Reloading!” Julie yelled as well.

  “Reloading!” someone else yelled.

  After reloading, they continued the battle. As soon as they started shooting at each other again, the obvious advantage of the locals took its toll on the rebels once more. Five more rebels were hit in the very first seconds after the weapons were reloaded, compared to just two locals, who were protected by the metal plates.

  Drake Junior was standing on top of a truck with his binoculars over his eyes. It was obvious that he didn’t like seeing his men losing the fight. His eyes wrote pure fear and frustration on his face. But not for long. He put his binoculars down and brought his walkie-talkie to his mouth.

  “Mortars One, Two, Three, Mortars One, Two, Three. Come in, over.”

  “Mortar One here, go ahead, over.”

  “Mortar Two, go ahead, over.”

  “Go for Mortar Three, over!”

  “Let them have it. I repeat: let them have it, over!”

  “Roger that, sir. Unleashing the payload, over,” all three mortar teams said.

  As soon as Drake Junior gave the order, the three mortar teams sent the first projectile toward the town. It hit a lateral section of the wall, blowing it to smithereens and killing three loca
ls. The other townsfolk got scared right away when they saw what happened.

  “Holy fuck, what was that?” Simon asked, terrified.

  “That was a mortar,” Melissa answered. “And there will be more on their way, unless we do something about it.”

  One mortar team fired another projectile. This time, it hit the locals in front of the gates, killing nine of them and injuring four more. Some of those injured lost their hearing. Simon’s second-in-command was among them. From a prone position, he looked at his fellow comrades, who kept firing at the rebels in front of them. The one closer to him kept yelling something at him, but he couldn’t hear what. He started limping toward him, hoping that if he gets closer, he will hear him. His comrade kept yelling at him, firing from time to time at the rebels, then yelling at him again. But he couldn’t hear him, so he got closer and closer, until eventually he got so close to him that he could touch him.

  “I can’t hear you, say again,” the man said to his comrade.

  This time, when his comrade yelled, he heard what he said.

  “Get back behind the shield, damn it. Get back behind…”

  The bullet went through his head, splattering his brains all over the ground, right before he could finish his sentence. The man went into shock. But it didn’t last long. He felt the first bullet hitting him in the leg. It was like a hot iron in his tendon. The pain was excruciating. He kneeled down, holding his hand on the injury, grunting in pain. Then, he felt the second bullet hitting him in the side and penetrating his lung. It cut his air out, causing him to gasp. And that was the last time he felt something. He didn’t feel the next ten bullets that penetrated him. The shock didn’t allow him to. He collapsed on the ground, coughing up blood and bleeding from all his twelve wounds. He died five seconds later, rolling his eyes behind his head.

  Another mortar hit the positions in front of the walls. It caused five people to be lifted up in the air and collapse dead on the ground. Three more people were seriously injured, one losing his leg and the other two losing an arm each. The two got up screaming in pain. They didn’t last long. The rebels shot them immediately, ending their suffering. The one who lost his leg managed to hide behind his metal plate, but a rebel managed to break formation and come toward him. He fired three bullets in his chest, killing him before he, in his turn, could be killed by the only three remaining locals standing behind their plates in front of the wall.