“Yeah. Sure thing, Harry.”
He then headed back toward his seat and sat down, not saying a word.
Meanwhile, Julie noticed that the girl sitting next to her had a machete on her back. She squeezed her hands through the bonds, while trying not to look like she was looking at it. She stood still for a few seconds, then quickly pulled the machete from its sheath and cut half of the girl’s head with her own weapon. The upper part of her head collapsed on the floor, while blood started gushing out from the other half, like from a fountain. The rebels tried to react quickly, but Julie got up and she raised the body in front of her. The rebels got up and started firing at her, but all they could hit was the half-decapitated corpse, which Julie was using as shield. Then, Julie grabbed the weapon on the corpse’s shoulder and started firing with one hand, while holding the corpse in front of her with the other. She hit six rebels, four on the right row and two on the left row, which was hers. Two rebels were missed by bullets, due to their positioning in front of the other two that got shot.
Meanwhile, after hearing the shots behind, the driver stopped the truck. He took the walkie-talkie and said:
“All cars, all cars, this is the last truck in the convoy. We got problems in the back. Repeat: problems in the back. Need immediate assistance, over.”
In the back of the truck, Julie ran out of bullets. One of the two surviving rebels aimed his weapon at her, but Simon got up and he slammed into him, causing him to fall on the bench. Then, Simon took his sidearm from his holster and put two bullets in him. The other rebel then jumped on Julie with his knife in his hand. Julie blocked his hit with her hand, but the rebel kept trying to stab her, even though her hands were blocking him. Two shots were then heard from behind and the rebel collapsed. Simon then got up with his gun smoking. All three of them now had bruises and scratches on their body and they felt like a train ran over them, but they knew they had to stay focused.
All of a sudden, one of the rebels from the truck came behind. Thomas got up and hit him in the head, knocking him unconscious. Suddenly, machinegun fire started from both sides of the truck. Thomas and Simon ducked next to Julie and waited for the bullets, which were piercing the truck’s tarp, to end. When they finally did, after moments that seemed like ages, Julie grabbed one of the rebel’s Kalashnikovs and started firing at the left side of the truck, while Simon, with his pistol, was firing at the right. Then, they broke the tarp and they cautiously looked through it. The two rebels were dead.
Julie grabbed the machete and cut Thomas and Simon’s bonds.
“Are you two okay?” she asked them.
“I’m fine,” Thomas answered.
“I’m fine too,” Simon answered as well.
“Hurry, then. Grab some weapons and some ammo and let’s get out of here.”
The two complied. Thomas took a Kalashnikov and Simon took and M-16, along with one pistol each and a few clips. Julie took the machete, a pistol and a Kalashnikov.
“How did you manage to loosen the bonds?” Thomas asked her.
“I practiced,” she answered.
The three jumped out of the truck. But as soon as they did that, a hail of bullets came toward them. They looked behind them and they saw five rebel cars coming toward them, with tons of rebels in the trailers.
“Into the woods, now!” Julie yelled.
They started to run into the woods, as the bullets were hitting the ground next to them. After about a minute of running, they hit a ditch. They jumped in.
“Cover yourselves with leaves,” Thomas said.
That’s exactly what they did. They covered themselves with leaves and they waited.
A few rebels reached the edge of the ditch. They held torches and flashlights in one hand and their weapons in the other. After looking down in the ditch, one of them said:
“Let’s jump in.”
They jumped in the ditch and they started searching for them.
Simon, Thomas and Julie’s hearts were pounding and they were sweating like in a hot day. They knew they would be dead if they found them. They tried to avoid rustling the leaves. The temptation to look and see where the rebels were going was high, but they had to contain it.
One of the rebels started coming toward Julie. Her pupils dilated, as his feet rustled the leaves underneath. He waived his torch downwards. As he approached more and more, Julie closed her eyes and made peace with God and herself.
The rebel was now next to her. She was gnashing her teeth and she was shaking, until he stepped right next to her foot and walked away.
“They’re nowhere to be found,” one of the rebels said. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Totally. I’m with you. Let’s go.”
The rebels jumped up the ditch and left. The three sighed with relief.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The fire burned, shedding heat and light in the cold, long, dark night. Thomas and Simon sat next to it, warming up and contemplating recent events. Julie came next to them, with branches and sticks in her hand.
“I brought some more wood,” she said, before throwing the branches and sticks next to the fire. She then sat next to them, in front of the warm, cozy fire. They were all silent for a few moments. Then, Julie suddenly said:
“Well, you’re awfully quiet. Say something.”
Simon sighed and said:
“It’s all my fault.”
“What’s all your fault?” Julie asked.
“The death of my entire community. All those people… their blood is on my hands. All of it.”
“That’s not true. It wasn’t you that killed them. It was the rebels. Their blood is on their hands, not yours.”
“It might as well be. Those people are dead because I refused the rebels’ terms. I should have taken them. I should have taken their terms. And now my people would be alive.”
Julie put her hand on his shoulder.
“If you would have taken the rebels’ terms,” she said,” your people would have starved to death. Literally. And eventually, they would have rebelled against you and shunned you for making peace with the rebels. You would have been a bad leader if you accepted their terms. But instead, you tried to protect your town and its residents.”
“And I failed. Now, they’re all dead. And explain me this: how exactly did I protect my people, when I practically made them to go to war for me? How can that be called “protection?”
“You tried to protect them from starving to death. Yes, in the end, they died. But they died with honor, defending their homes and killing rebels. And that’s something.”
“You really think so?”
“Of course. The fact that they chose to die in battle rather than becoming the slaves of the rebels meant a lot to them. Try to imagine what’s worse: serving the rebels and starving to death, or dying in the process of defending your home?”
Simon sighed and said:
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”
“So what do we do now?” Thomas asked.
“Now, we need supplies,” Julie said. “We need to find something to eat. Tomorrow, we go hunting. Then, if we’re lucky, maybe we’ll find another town and stay there.”
“Sure,” Thomas said. “Let’s get more people killed.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The rebels are after us, Julie. They will follow us wherever we’ll go. And they will kill everybody that becomes our ally. We already have tons of people on our conscience. How many more do you want to die because of us?”
“Oh, so you suggest facing the rebels alone?”
“Of course not. But let’s think this through. So we go into another town and try to convince them to join us against the rebels. In exchange for what? We have nothing to offer them in return. They’ll kick us out the gates the moment they hear what we’re there for. That’s if we’re lucky. If we’re not, they’ll deliver us to the rebels themselves the very next second, to make sure their town is left alone. Admit it, Ju
lie. Our battle is lost. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“You’re right, Thomas. The battle is lost. But the war is not. That’s what I will not admit. “Maybe you forgot what happened to Carla and Fred, but I didn’t forget what happened to Darryl. I will never forget seeing my husband dead among hundreds of other dead bodies, with a bullet hole in his head. My husband was killed by those sons of bitches, and I want my revenge. And I will never rest until I will have it. I don’t care if I have allies next to me or if I have to do this totally on my own. But as God as my witness I will kill as many of those motherfuckers as I can. And at the end, I will kill their leader slowly, he will beg me to do it faster. That’s what I intend to do. What do you intend to do, Thomas? You plan on simply forgetting how your wife and son were crucified on the town’s wall and left to die a slow, painful death? You plan on forgetting the oath you made when your wife died in front of you? You simply plan on living and letting go? Or you plan on getting the asshole who ordered for them to die and kill him the same way? To avenge their death and make sure their souls will rest in peace? Huh? Tell me, big bro. “What’s it gonna be?”
Thomas looked at her, but he remained silent.
“Yeah,” Julie said, eventually. “I thought so. Now let’s go to sleep. We’ll need the rest.”
All three lay down next to the fire and closed their eyes.
***
The boar was about thirty yards away from them, walking among the bushes and grunting loudly. Thomas kneeled down, aiming at it, concentrating on taking the best shot he could. Simon and Julie stood next to him, encouraging him silently.
Thomas took the shot. He hit the boar right in the heart. It collapsed on the ground, squealing for a few seconds, and then died.
“Well, I guess our breakfast is secured,” Thomas said.
“You’re the best shot, big bro,” Julie said.
All three of them were standing next to the fire. The boar was skewered on top of it. Julie took the stick, cut a small bit of meat with it and tasted it.
“Mm, it’s delicious,” she said. Then, using the machete, she cut the meat and shared fragments of it with Simon and Thomas.
“The best meat I’ve had in months,” Thomas said, with his mouth full.
“You’re saying that because you shot it,” Julie said.
“What, you don’t like it?” Thomas asked her.
“Yeah, I do. But you know what they say… it’s the most delicious when you catch it yourself.”
“I must agree with your sister on this one,” Simon said.
“I wish we had some baked potatoes with it. Now that’s what I call a delicacy,” Thomas said.
“Yeah,” Julie said. “Or some mayonnaise. That would have given it quite the taste.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” Simon said. “And for desert, chocolate cake.”
“Or some strawberries. Man, it’s been a while since I had some strawberries. I must say I have a craving for them right now.”
“Good point, Julie. Or cherries. Man, I feel the taste of cherries right now. I remember when I was little, way before The Alignment, mom and dad used to go to the market every week and always used to buy cherries. I would be so happy every time they did that. I’ll never forget the taste of those cherries. Happy days…”
Thomas and Julie both sighed.
“What do you remember from before The Alignment, sir?” Thomas asked Simon.
“Well,” Simon said, “I remember having a home, a beautiful wife, a beautiful daughter. I remember being a university teacher at the Philadelphia University. It was quite the job. I respected the students and they respected me. It was a reciprocal respect. The salary was big. “And I liked what I was doing.”
“Yeah, I remember you told us that you were a teacher before The Alignment. But what exactly did you teach, again?”
“Philosophy. I would introduce my students to the minds of Plato, Socrates, Confucius, Nietzsche and other well-known philosophers and great thinkers of times past. Then, The Alignment came. Millions of people, including some of my students and fellow teacher colleagues died during the earthquakes, in various horrible ways. Some had their houses collapse on them. Some fell from the bridges which collapsed underneath them. Some were buried alive when the ground opened underneath them. My family and I managed to stay alive by hiding in the bunker we built under our garden. We always expected the apocalypse to be triggered by China, Russia, or North Korea’s nukes. We never imagined that the end times would come from a planetary and galactic alignment. But then again, no one really knew how the apocalypse would choose to come. Some even believed that some mysterious disease, hidden deep underground would surface one day and turn people into zombies. Whatever… And after The Alignment, everybody forgot about philosophy. No one, absolutely no one was interested to know what this world is made of. Mathematics, literature, history, geography, biology, philosophy, physics, chemistry… they were all forgotten. Everybody is now interested in survival. No one cares to see what this world has to offer. Teachers, students, lawyers, doctors, politicians, everybody put the books down and replaced them with weapons. And who could blame them? The entire society collapsed. Their services were no longer required. What was required was everything they had in their pockets and bags. And that’s something they had to defend. And how else could they defend them, if not with weapons?
“Then, the rebels came in the picture. Thousands and thousands of criminals of all sorts: rapists, murderers, thieves, pedophiles, scoundrels of all kinds, shapes and sizes, united into one group, with only one purpose in mind: to rob and to hurt those who were not like them.”
“When did you first meet the rebels?” Thomas asked.
“About two years after The Alignment. My family and I were walking on the road, somewhere between Fleetwood and Leesport. And suddenly, they jumped in front of us, from the field to our left. They surrounded us, at gun point. They said that if I don’t want my wife and daughter to be raped and killed, we will have to give them everything we have. We had no choice. We gave them everything: the food, the water, the weapons… I’m surprised they didn’t ask for our clothes as well. It was a miracle that they let us live. Little did I know that I was gonna meet them again, and that they would be a constant thorn in my back.”
“So how did you end up the leader of Huntsville?” Julie asked.
“We found Huntsville eleven days after our first encounter with the rebels. Back then, it was ruled by a man named Peter Grimsdotter. I still believe that he was the most decent fellow I have ever met. From the moment he saw us from the top of the wall, he invited us in, fed us, and gave us a warm bed and decent clothes. He didn’t even bother to ask who we are. For all he knew, we could have been robbers or killers. He didn’t think about that. He just welcomed us in and made us feel like home. Then, about five years later, he died of a heart attack, at the age of eighty-five.
“The whole town wept. That’s how respected that man was during his lifetime and after it. And for good reason too. While he was alive, he made sure that everybody in Huntsville had enough of everything: enough food, enough water, enough clothes. And he somehow managed to keep the rebels at bay. He never obeyed them, no matter how much they threatened him to destroy his town and kill everyone inside it. He never yielded to their demands, and he constantly defied them. The funny thing is that the rebels feared him, and they never attacked Huntsville while he was alive. I suppose it was because they knew how determined he and his men were in defending their homes and food. They knew that they would lose tons of men in the process of going to war with Huntsville.
“But all that changed when Peter died. The moment that happened, dark times came upon Huntsville. Right after his body was cremated, elections for a new leader took place. I decided to throw in my candidacy, because I was determined to carry on that great man’s legacy. And surprise, surprise… I was elected the town’s new leader. But no matter how much I tried to continue Peter’s legacy, I would
always fail. Long droughts caused the crops to be unproductive, which meant that people had no food. Those who were brave enough to go hunting or scavenging outside the town walls would end up captured or killed by the rebels. To make matters worse, after the rebels found out that Peter died, they lost their fear of attacking our town. They would come to our walls almost daily, trying to break in. We managed to hold them off, but for how long?
“So the people turned to me, obviously. They started putting pressure on me to do something about the ghastly situation they were in. Therefore, I had no choice but to make a deal with the rebel leader: fifty percent of all we produce each month, in return for leaving our town alone. By some miracle, he agreed. By some bigger miracle, he kept his promise, and the attacks toward our town stopped. But the effects were immediately visible. People began to starve, due to the ration of the food. Water was also a rarity. Not few died of starvation, especially in the winter. You could tell how much someone was gonna live by how skinny they were. Some were so skinny, you could swear they had no organs on the inside, just bones and their skin. We used to call them “the dead men walking.” Those were the ones you could tell they only had a few days left to live.
“This situation continued until we started smuggling food and water from the towns nearby. We managed to make secret deals with them, unbeknownst to the rebels, which stated that they would give us food and water in exchange for us giving them our handy men to help them improve their town: our shoemakers, tailors, carpenters, builders, locksmiths, etcetera, would go to their towns and help them with whatever it was they were good at in exchange for them not letting us starve or dehydrate. And so, we managed to get over the hunger and lack of water that haunted us for so long. It seemed like our troubles were over.
“Until ten years ago, when a flu epidemic broke out in our town and killed most of us, including my wife and daughter. We asked for meds from the other towns, but some didn’t have any themselves and some said that the only things they would not trade are their meds. So we had no choice but to swallow this bite as well and count and burn our dead at the end. Including my wife and daughter.”
Dark Apocalypse: A Post-Apocalyptic Family Saga Page 23