Days of Anarchy

by J. D. Martens

  Worried, Jeremy closed the door. “What’s going on? This is such a dumb argument. Can we just relax a little bit?”

  Anna’s face turned into a deep scowl. Well, Jeremy thought to himself, that was the wrong thing to say.

  Jeremy spent the next hour trying to calm her down, saying things like, “I’m sorry,” and, “Listen, I was wrong.” The trouble was that he had no idea what he did wrong. He knew it was about more than just the toilet seat, but for the life of him couldn’t figure out what. He even thought about it as he curled up on the couch that night, falling asleep feeling a familiar empathy for the men of the world—confusion about the fairer sex.

  Jeremy awoke to the phone ringing near his ear. He rubbed his eyes and picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Jeremy, it’s Dr. Miller.”

  “Oh, hi! How are you? What time is it?”

  “Oh yeah, I figured I would wake you. It’s around four in the morning. I have something I would like you to do.”

  “Name it!” Jeremy replied excitedly.

  “Project DJD is moving to a new location and I need someone on the ground in Houston I can trust. There have been some whisperings about aristocratic billionaires planning their own project in regards to Shiva. I don’t know enough about it yet, but I need to meet with you. Can you meet me on Friday in Houston? The bar that we visited together?”

  Aristocratic billionaires . . . oh I have some news for you, Jeremy thought.

  “Sure, sounds good.”

  “And Jeremy.”

  “Yes?”

  “Be careful.”

  Jeremy hung up the phone, exhilarated, and found that it was difficult to fall back asleep. He tried packing in the dark, and turned on a flashlight. He went into the room and got some clothes, his backpacking backpack, and some road essentials. He almost laughed out loud when he found inside his backpack one of the rolled up Playboys that Dustin had packed in the car. It seemed so long ago that they had left Texas in the Acura and the U-Haul.

  By five in the morning he was ready to go. It was still dark, so Jeremy settled back on the couch and fell asleep.

  Jeremy woke up nervous; he was always nervous right before a trip. And I still have to talk to Anna.

  “I think you should go,” Anna said, when he entered her room and found her curled up in bed, holding a pillow in front of her body.

  I didn’t even tell her I was going to leave, Jeremy thought.

  “I wish it didn’t have to be like this,” Jeremy said.

  “Just go. That’s what you want, right? It’s boring here? You want to go save the world?”

  “I’m not!” Jeremy said, but his voice lacked conviction.

  “So, this is it then,” Anna said. “We’re breaking up.”

  “Maybe we should take a little break . . . ”

  Jeremy stood at the edge of the bed, looking at Anna, feeling suddenly very sad. He didn’t know what else to say, and Anna turned her back to him, falling back to sleep—or pretending to at least. Jeremy walked out of the room, his head low. Dustin and Karina were making some breakfast—rice, lentils, kidney beans, and canned peas and carrots, being healthy by necessity.

  He sat down to breakfast and ate quietly alongside Karina, Dustin, and Janice.

  “So, Dr. Miller called me back, and asked me to work for him in Houston. So, after two months here, I think I’m going back to Texas.”

  “The scientist who is working to stop the meteor?” Janice asked, pricking her ears up.

  “Comet,” Jeremy, Dustin, and Karina said in unison.

  Janice blinked at them all for a moment. “Right, comet.”

  “And Janice, I talked to Karina and I think we will take you up on that offer to go to Europe. We’ll happily work on the shipping container.”

  They ate in silence again, trying not to address the elephant in the room. Finally, unable to stand it, Jeremy broke the silence with a comforting lie.

  “Anna’s okay with it. She wants me to go help Dr. Miller.”

  The others went with the lie to reduce the awkwardness, which Jeremy appreciated.

  “Aren’t her parents due to arrive any day?” Janice asked. She felt it would be a bit awkward to stay alone with Anna, and had decided to see about working in one of the government factories helping make the rockets.

  Dustin, Janice, and Karina said goodbye to Anna while Jeremy waited in the car. He couldn’t gather the courage to say goodbye again. Jeremy looked down at his shirt. It was the same one he had worn for a week now—a small plain black T-Shirt. It had stains all over it, mostly from ketchup, and a few holes from climbing trees. He still had his gun tucked in the back of his pants.

  They started driving with Janice at the wheel. They drove quietly, and Jeremy looked out the window at the beautiful landscape passing him by. They made good time and decided this time not to stop in Denver, until Jeremy gasped.

  “The U-Haul!” he remembered.

  “What?” Janice asked.

  “We could get the supplies from the U-Haul. We hid it in Denver on our way to Vail.”

  “Let it go, Jer,” Karina replied. “It’s too dangerous to go back.”

  “Aw, man,” Dustin joked, “My Playboys were in there!”

  As Karina rolled her eyes, Jeremy looked back at the Rocky Mountains which were getting smaller behind them.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said, as they made their way back to civilization.

  The signs around Denver were newer. There were several UA tags, and there were even UA tags on the freeway concrete.

  “United Airlines is really going for a new advertising campaign, aren’t they?” Dustin laughed.

  “Too lame, man,” Jeremy commented.

  Above them, the comet hurled savagely toward them, and below them the concrete sped by. It looked like the mysterious Union Anarchists were expanding. Jeremy had yet to meet one of these people, though perhaps the ones to steal his car had been agents of the group. Jeremy fell into a tumultuous sleep as their small sedan sped along the pavement, south toward Houston.

  Incredibly, the drive back to Houston was fairly uneventful. They found a gas station just when they reached New Mexico, and to Jeremy’s surprise no one was there. He called into the mini-mart but there was no one. He looked; there were great big UA graffiti signs everywhere.

  “Maybe the anarchists believe in free gas for all,” Jeremy mused to himself.

  He looked around the mini-mart and saw the shelves were all empty. Seeing no one, he walked in. One lonely bag of chips left on one shelf was just wishing to be grabbed and eaten. Unfortunately, it was Sour Cream & Onion, a flavor that Jeremy absolutely detested. All the cigarettes behind the counter were gone.

  He walked around the counter, and to his surprise saw the computer on, with sticky notes pasted to the side of the screen. The stickers told him the steps to allow a cash purchase for gasoline, so he did it. He felt a little guilty not paying for the gas, and it eased his conscience a bit when he opened the register to find that it was empty. Then he remembered he didn’t have any cash anyway.

  Jeremy took the nozzle and pumped up. Then he took the spare canisters they had in the car and filled those up as well. Jeremy, one hand on his pistol, scanned all around the gas station until the canisters were full. They figured with all their fuel canisters they would have enough to get back to Houston without having to pump again.

  As they drove, it was apparent they were leaving the territory of the Union Anarchists. The graffiti had almost completely changed into religious fanaticism. The roads in north Texas always displayed the numerous billboards of dead fetuses, Devil’s pitchforks, and “Jesus Lives” messages, but things had become even more preposterous since they’d left. At every mile was a makeshift graffiti sign warning of the coming apocalypse. Jeremy read, “Don’t stop the Apocalypse, Ascend to Heaven.” Another one read: “Stop Devils Stopping the Apocalypse. Call 800-GOHEAVN.” Jeremy shuddered, wondering who would answer.


  He saw similar sentiments painted on the tops of houses as he drove by. He wondered if this was the threat Dr. Miller was talking about, if the threat to their work would come from religious fanatics. Considering what he knew about the current events of the past twenty years, he couldn’t see why not. Religious fanaticism seemed like the most likely candidate to mess up any plan to save the world.

  After crossing into Texas, they listened on the radio for any news about the world, and Jeremy’s fears were realized. Several religious groups were talking about trying to stop the government from stopping Shiva. They said it was playing God.

  “What I don’t get,” Jeremy began, “is that the government was able to shut down the entire internet. No Facebook, no Instagram, but we can hear on the radio about how the Christian Right wants to let the world get destroyed? Seems weird, right?”

  “You’re forgetting,” Dustin replied, “that the internet can be easily controlled, but to broadcast a radio signal, all you need is a big radio tower and you’re set. The people we just heard, they are most likely less than a hundred miles away from us right now.” Jeremy suddenly realized he hadn’t told his parents that he was leaving. I’m a bad son. I should’ve told them a lot more . . .

  In contrast to northern Texas and Denver, Houston looked very similar to before Jeremy had left.

  Janice drove the whole way, which impressed the rest of the group. She drove all the way to the Port of Houston, and headed for the ship that was going to Rotterdam.

  “How did you find out about this again?” Karina asked a little nervously.

  “So the Ark gets a lot of equipment and a lot of the world’s richest families are from Europe, especially Russia. This is the ship they have been using to send the bulk of materials, personal belongings, and people across the Atlantic. They basically don’t have anything to send back, so they sell the space to other enterprises, so there is always a need for people to clean and manage the cargo,” Janice explained.

  “Okay,” Karina said, sounding nervous.

  Dustin reminded Karina in a hushed voice that she’d wanted to see the churches in Europe. Their whispered conversation interspersed with hugs, then more whispers, made Jeremy feel like he was intruding. He tried to give them some space but it was impossible in the small car. Janice turned up the radio, which spoke more about the coming apocalypse.

  “Well, you guys going to go or what?” Jeremy asked.

  “Yes!” Karina said, finally excited.

  The Port of Houston was a bustling scene, with people shouting orders at each other, dockworkers running around, and goods being rapidly loaded and unloaded from ships by huge cranes. The port ran remarkably smoothly. It was almost as if none of the workers felt the world was ending; their world moved along just as planned.

  Dustin and Karina stepped out of the car, putting on their backpacks. Janice went to speak with a lead dockworker. He had a radio in his ear and seemed to be directing much of the foot traffic. Jeremy sat and waited, a bit unsure of how to say goodbye to his friends.

  “I still can’t believe you’re just going to go,” he admitted. “It feels like you’re just doing this to do one more crazy thing. You know, we might be able to save the world here.”

  “And it might end too, but at least this way I’ll be able to see Stonehenge and the cave paintings at Lascaux,” Dustin replied.

  “I never knew you were into history like that.”

  “I don’t know, I think when I realized that I might never see that stuff, it became a lot more important. I’ve always wanted to see it before I died, and now, why not, you know?”

  Jeremy could understand where his friend was coming from, but to end their lives while traveling the world as a tourist instead of working to save it was not something he would do.

  He spoke up again. “And Karina, is that what you want to see, too? Dustin mentioned you wanted to see the churches, right?”

  “That’s right,” Karina replied. “I want to see the Vatican. It has always been a dream, and then eventually we will try to make it to Jerusalem.”

  “I have to admit that it does sound pretty fun. I know it’ll probably be impossible, but if there’s any way you can get word to me on how you are doing and what you’ve been up to, I’d love to hear from you!”

  “Of course, my friend!” Dustin exclaimed. “Right when I find a phone, telegram, or post office, you’ll be the first person that I’ll reach out to!”

  Jeremy took turns hugging both of them, and then they walked together to Janice, who had called them over to speak with the dockworker. He immediately sent them aboard a ship called the SS Hamilton, en route to Rotterdam, the Netherlands.

  As Jeremy longingly watched Karina and Dustin step aboard the ship, he had a panging wish to return back to Colorado to be with Anna.

  “You sure this is where you want me to drop you off?” Janice asked, looking nervously around the seedy Houston neighborhood.

  “Yeah, Janice, thanks. I appreciate it. We can meet up tomorrow, maybe?”

  “Sounds good, Jeremy. I’ll keep in touch. Thanks for everything.”

  Janice kissed Jeremy on the cheek and Jeremy got out of the car in the Third Ward. He walked to the dingy bar called Soldier’s and stepped inside.

  “ID?” the barkeep asked.

  “Oh,” Jeremy began, “I actually forgot—”

  But the bartender cut him off, saying, “I’m just joking with you. There is no drinking age limit anymore, not when the world is about to end.”

  “Right,” Jeremy replied slowly.

  “So what will it be?” he asked, while polishing a glass.

  “Um, just water, thanks.”

  “No water, here, pal. We only serve alcoholic beverages.”

  “How about just soda water and lime?” Jeremy asked.

  “Sure. What do you have for it? We don’t accept money here.”

  That’s convenient, since I don’t have any of that, Jeremy thought. He looked around the bar and saw there was a small weight scale, and near it a sign said:

  SUGAR: TEN GRAMS/DRINK

  SALT: TWENTY GRAMS/DRINK

  Jeremy stopped reading at “salt.” He rummaged around in his backpack until he found a package he’d been carrying all this time based on his mother’s advice—salt was a useful preservative. She used to make her own prosciutto from ham for their family. Jeremy gave the man the ten grams of salt in exchange for the drink.

  Jeremy sat in the corner of the bar, watching the carbon dioxide rise out of his glass. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the door open, and glancing up was dismayed to see it was not Dr. Miller, but a large tattooed biker. It took another three patrons to enter the bar before the distinctive white fluff of Dr. Miller’s hair appeared. Dr. Miller went to the bar and ordered a pint of beer, immediately taking a big swig of the frothy drink.

  Robert looked around and noticed Jeremy sitting by himself. He took a sip and walked over.

  “You made it,” Robert grunted as he sat down.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Dr. Miller!” Jeremy said, excited to start working, and to tell Dr. Miller about having seen the Ark.

  Dr. Miller looked left and right and over his shoulder, before taking another long sip of his beer.

  “Nice to see you too, Jeremy, but I don’t have much time. I’m sorry it isn’t under better circumstances, but I guess that’s the way it is. We have been working for a few months in Los Alamos, New Mexico. It was actually where the first nuclear bomb was detonated, and the site of the Manhattan Project—I guess you learned that in school—but we moved back there to work on interstellar nuclear weapons against Shiva.

  “A week ago, we got a severe increase in threats from some radical fundamentalist religious groups who believe that the coming apocalypse should not be stopped. The most influential of these people is a man named Matt Wilkinson, an evangelist preacher who has a lot of power in Washington. The Secretary of State, Robert Brighton, told me he thinks that there co
uld be some people within our government hoping to dismantle our work in stopping the comet.”

  “They are trying to stop you from saving the world?” Jeremy asked incredulously.

  “There are some who do not like the world. There are some who think it is flawed and that when they die, everything will be clear and perfect. Then there are the crazy people who just want to watch people burn.”

  Jeremy was confused about this, because to him it seemed like they should all want to save the planet. “Which ones are you most scared of?” Jeremy asked.

  “I’m not sure, but I know that the Secretary of State is moving us to some island in the U.S. Virgin Islands to protect us while we work. I leave in a few days, but a lot of operations will continue from Johnson Space Center. I’m going to employ you as my research assistant. There are some things I need you to get from my office at the JSC, and above all I want to have someone I can trust there, outside of the traditional methods of communication.”

  “You think the people at the Johnson Space Center might try to sabotage the project?”

  “It’s possible. I need someone there I can trust. Can you do it?”

  “Of course!”

  Dr. Miller looked around before asking, “And where is Anna?”

  Jeremy looked up and answered in a detached tone, “She stayed up in Colorado.”

  “Oh, alright.”

  “It’s okay . . . I don’t know. Anyways, who’s the person I should be looking out for again?”

  “His name is Matt Wilkinson, who the Secretary of Defense put in charge of the JSC. I just want you to be able to get an idea about what he’s up to over there and anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Is he working with anyone, like an organization? Maybe the Union Anarchists?”

  “The Union—oh no. Not them. These guys are different. They started with death threats via email, saying that I was not allowed to play God.”

  “They are going to kill you?”

  “I have no idea. They are getting crazy though, these fundamentalists.”

  Jeremy looked around the bar, seeing a lot of faces. It was only around three in the afternoon, but the dingy bar was crowded. Robert had almost finished his beer.