Seven Days: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel

by G. Michael Hopf

“It’s fine, no worries,” he said. He handed her back the bag, put his attention back on the road, and proceeded ahead. What he’d just witnessed was the worst she’d been. She wasn’t getting better, and whatever Hillary had tried definitely didn’t seem to be working. He needed to get to San Clemente Island, but at her rate of decline, he was now beginning to think she wouldn’t make it.

  CHAPTER SIX

  FIVE MILES WEST OF LOGAN, NEW MEXICO

  Brienne woke early with the hope that she could slip out without having to say goodbye to Michael. She wasn’t good at goodbyes. Even when she had left Jake and Dustin all those years ago, she took an Uber versus having Jake drive her to the airport. It had been her way of doing things since she could remember, and for the life of her, she couldn’t recall why.

  She slung her pack over her shoulders and slipped out of Chase’s bedroom, took two steps, and found Michael sitting in a chair in the living room. Seeing him startled her. “Why are you up?”

  “I wanted to say bye,” Michael answered as he fiddled with a loose thread on his sweater. “Plus I didn’t want to miss seeing you again.”

  She stiffened her back, cleared her throat, and said, “Thank you for the stuff.”

  He got to his feet and gave her a pensive look.

  “You take care of yourself, kid,” she blurted out then shuffled past him.

  “Is that it? Will I ever see you again?”

  She stopped at the entry to the kitchen and replied, “I doubt it.”

  “You said this place was nice, that we had it lucky here. If you find your family, why not bring them here? We have plenty of room.”

  Her heart melted. She turned towards him and said, “I’ll consider that.”

  “I’m really happy to have met you.”

  “Nice to have met you too,” she said and continued on her way through the darkened kitchen to the doorway. She grabbed the knob, turned and, just before she opened the door, said, “Tell your mom I’m grateful too.”

  Michael had followed her and was a few feet behind her. “I will.”

  “And I hope your nana gets better,” Brienne said, opened the door, and walked out as the light of the new day was just beginning to show itself in the east.

  Michael went to the door and looked for her, but she’d vanished.

  A tear had come to Brienne’s eye, which she quickly wiped away. She still had a long way to go, and any feelings like this could make her weak. With her rifle slung across her body and her pack snug to her back, she marched down the gravel drive towards the gate.

  Lights flashed down the road past the gate, followed by the rumble of an engine.

  Brienne paused and listened.

  The lights grew closer and the engine sound louder. Voices now came into earshot.

  Fear gripped her. She unslung her rifle and held it firm as she stayed frozen, her senses heightened.

  The lights came into full view. They were the headlights of a vehicle. The voices boomed and carried around the area.

  Brienne had the sickening feeling that these people had a connection to the ones she’d shot a couple of days ago. And if her suspicions were correct, they were here to seek revenge and raid what they had. She spun around and sprinted as fast as her legs would take her to the house. She leapt onto the porch, took the door handle in her hand, and went to turn it, to find it was locked. She banged with her fists against the door. “Michael, open up!”

  Seconds passed and the door opened. “What’s wrong?”

  Brienne pushed past him, slammed the door behind them, and exclaimed, “Hurry, get your mom and Nana up!”

  Michael saw the fear in her eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “There are people coming. We have to hide; we have to go!” she roared.

  All Michael could imagine was these people torturing his mother and his nana, much less him. Never in the years since the war had they had anyone show up. Now someone was here, and they most likely presented a grave threat.

  “Go!” Brienne shouted.

  Michael turned on a dime and raced away. “Mom, Nana, wake up, wake up!”

  Tanya emerged from her bedroom holding a lantern. “What is up with all the noise?”

  Seeing her, Michael ran up and said, “There are people coming. Brienne saw them!”

  “People coming?”

  “Gather what you can, and get Nana. We have to go hide,” Brienne shouted from the end of the hall.

  “Who are they?” Tanya asked.

  “It’s best we don’t stand around and wait to find out,” Brienne said.

  Nana appeared at her door. “What is all this racket?”

  “Nana, we need to go. Someone is coming,” Michael said.

  “Go? I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Nana said defiantly. “This farm has been my home since I was a little girl. I’ll be damned if I’m running from it.”

  Brienne, Tanya and Michael approached Nana.

  “This is not a time to act gallant or cavalier,” Brienne said.

  “Young woman, I’m old and I won’t be run off by whoever is coming,” Nana shot back.

  “Mom, this is foolish. We should go hide in the creek bed to the south of the property,” Tanya said, her hands trembling.

  “Nope,” Nana said.

  Annoyed, Brienne walked to a window in the living room and pulled aside the curtains to see the lights of the truck parked in front of the gate. She saw movement; no doubt they were trying to open the gate. “They’re at the gate. We need to go now before the sun rises. We still have a bit of darkness to hide in.”

  Nana stood her ground. “You go; I’m staying. If those bastards want to drive me out of my house, they’ll have to take my dead body out of here, but not before I put some lead in their asses.”

  “You’re talking nonsense, Mom; we need to go,” Tanya snapped. She too was growing annoyed with Nana’s attitude.

  “Tanya, you take Michael and go. I’m an old woman, I’m tired, and I ain’t leavin’.”

  Brienne came back and said, “She’s made up her mind. Michael, Tanya, let’s go.”

  “No, I won’t leave Nana,” Michael said, his voice cracking with emotion.

  Nana reached out with a shaky hand and touched his cheek. “Go, protect your mother.”

  “But, Nana,” Michael said.

  “I love you, Michael. You’ve always been my favorite,” Nana said.

  Brienne raced back to the window. She peered out to see several men moving the nail strip from the drive. “They’re inside the property. They’re coming this way.”

  “Go,” Nana said.

  “Michael, she’s made up her mind. Time for us to go hide,” Tanya said. She pulled on Michael’s arm.

  Brienne came back and asked, “Is there a way out the back?”

  “We can climb out my window,” Tanya replied.

  Brienne turned to Nana, pulled out her Glock, and offered it.

  Nana shook her head and said, “I’ve got something, my husband’s old service revolver.”

  “You have a pistol?” Tanya asked, shocked upon hearing the revelation.

  “I’ve always had it, kept it in a safe place just in case and, well, this is one of those cases. Now you all hurry and go hide. When those bastards come in the door, they’ll get a surprise,” Nana said with a smile.

  Michael embraced Nana, tears in his eyes. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, and remember what I told you. Now go, please hurry,” Nana said, pulling him off her.

  Voices from outside were now carrying inside.

  “They’re here,” Brienne said. “Come on.”

  The three climbed out of Tanya’s bedroom window, hit the ground, and sprinted for the dry creek bed two hundred yards away. The light from the vehicle lit up the house, and the sun’s light was growing with each passing minute.

  After settling into a good hiding spot with a vantage point of the back and side of the house, they watched as six people emerged from the old 1968 Ford F-100 pick
up truck. They dispersed, with three looking around the property and three going inside.

  Brienne had her rifle in her shoulder.

  “Nana is going to die, isn’t she?” Michael asked. “We have to fight back, we must.”

  Brienne pulled the Glock 17 out and handed it to Michael. “Remember how I told you to shoot this?”

  He looked at her, shocked to be given the pistol. “Yeah.”

  “Good.”

  “You can’t give my son a gun,” Tanya spat.

  “I’m not here to get into a pissing contest, but he might need it,” Brienne said.

  “He’s a boy,” Tanya said before Brienne interrupted her.

  “He’s a young man who needs to know how to fight for himself and defend what is his. You’ve spent all this time living behind that gate thinking the world was the same. Well, Tanya, that there breaking into your house is the new world, and they kill people for no reason at all.”

  Tanya sneered but decided not to respond.

  “We need to fight back,” Michael said.

  “Right now, we’ll stay put,” Brienne said.

  Several gunshots sounded from inside the house.

  Michael jumped. “Nana, no.”

  Brienne got back behind her rifle and steadied herself. Through her scope she saw the three who remained outside rush back towards the house. Seconds later two men came out dragging Nana, who was kicking and screaming.

  “Nana, no,” Michael again whimpered.

  “Remain calm,” Brienne urged.

  The man dragging Nana was known to Tanya.

  “That’s Jon Wilkins,” she gasped.

  Wilkins threw Nana to the ground, snatched her by the neck, and smacked her across the face. “Where is everyone else?”

  Nana smiled, blood dripping from a cut lip. “I’m here all alone.”

  “That’s not what Will told us before I slit his throat,” Wilkins said. He was tall, lean, and a thick black beard covered his face. His piercing pale blue eyes gave him an ominous appearance. “He said you all were doing okay out here and promised to give us some provisions if I didn’t kill him.”

  “There ain’t no one else out here but me. Will went to town to get me some medicine,” Nana smirked.

  “I warned him to stay out, but he came back. I told him what would happen if he stepped foot back in my town to scavenge,” Wilkins said.

  “Your town, since when did you come to own Logan?” Nana chuckled. “You’re just a two-bit thug. I remember you. Didn’t you used to pump shit out of those portable toilets? Now look at you, you think you’re some sort of kingpin. Son, you were and will always be a shit sucker.”

  Tanya, Brienne and Michael could all hear what was being said. After Nana’s snarky remarks, they all cringed, knowing nothing good would be the result of what she just said.

  Wilkins reeled back his clenched fist.

  “Stop!” Michael shouted.

  Wide-eyed, Brienne grabbed at Michael’s pant leg. “What are you doing?”

  “Michael, no,” Tanya cried out.

  Michael brushed off Brienne’s grasp and walked out of the dry creek bed, the pistol tucked in the small of his back.

  “Get back here,” Tanya snapped.

  “No, Mom, we need to stand up and fight people like this. Nana is my family, and I won’t see her hurt by these people,” Michael declared.

  Hearing Michael’s shout, Nana sighed.

  Wilkins spun around and looked into the dimly lit distance. “Who’s that?”

  Michael approached until he was in view. “I’m Michael, her grandson.”

  “Ah, I suppose you were that brat we went chasing after the other day. Tell me, where is your mother? I know that pretty little thing is here,” Wilkins asked.

  Michael’s arms were raised. “What do you want? Is it the farm, our stash? What is it?”

  “I didn’t come here to take your stuff, though I will have it once I’m through here. No, I came to get a pound of flesh as payment for killing my brother and cousin.”

  “I didn’t kill them,” Michael shouted back.

  “Someone with you did. Now how about you turn them over and we can call us even—that is, after I take what I want,” Wilkins barked.

  Michael took a few steps farther. “I need you to leave.”

  Wilkins raised a brow, cocked his head, and laughed heartily. He turned to his right-hand man, Curt, next to him and said, “He wants us to leave. What do you think we should do?”

  “I say we kill that little pipsqueak, shoot this old hag, and burn the fucking place down,” the man answered with a sinister tone. Curt was a short man, he stood about five feet six inches, but he made up for his limited height by being stocky and muscular. He was known for his strength and had at one time been the New Mexico arm wrestling champion.

  “I like that. Hey, pipsqueak, I don’t think we’re gonna leave. Now how about you just get whoever killed my brother and cousin to step forward, and maybe I’ll consider not killing you,” Wilkins said.

  The entire time Michael and Wilkins were going back and forth, Brienne scoped who she would shoot first, and settled on Wilkins.

  Tanya knelt frozen. The shock of seeing Michael confronting Wilkins and his people was too much for her already fragile mindset to take.

  “Michael, you go, run. These scumbags can’t do anything to me; I’m already dead. Now go, run,” Nana yelled.

  “Would you shut that old cow up,” Wilkins said to Curt.

  Happily, Curt cocked his arm back and readied to strike her but paused when Nana gave him a big smile. “What are you smiling at, bitch?”

  “Curtis Marlow, aren’t you the fella all the girls snickered about? It was you with the micro penis, wasn’t it?” Nana quipped.

  “Fuck you,” Curt said and pulled his pistol from his waistband. He placed it against Nana’s forehead and barked, “Take that back, you hear me.”

  “Why so mad, Curtis?” Nana laughed. “It must be true based on how angry you are about it.”

  Wilkins turned back to Curt and said, “Shut her the fuck up.”

  “Fine,” Curt said and pulled the trigger.

  Nana’s head snapped back when the round passed through it. She crumpled to the ground dead.

  Rage welled up inside Michael. He reached for the pistol tucked in the small of his back.

  Tanya couldn’t sit idle any longer. Nana was dead, and Michael was not far away from them. She jumped to her feet and ran toward Michael. “Michael, no, don’t do anything

  “Shit,” Brienne growled as she watched Tanya run towards Michael.

  Wilkins peered out. “Who is that?”

  Brienne was done. She knew there was no way they were getting out of there without having a gunfight. She put her reticle back on Wilkins and squeezed the trigger.

  Curt, who was still angry from the stinging words from Nana, pushed his way past Wilkins, leveled his pistol in Tanya’s direction, and pulled the trigger.

  The 9 mm round exploded from the barrel and ended its journey buried in Tanya’s chest. She dropped to the ground, alive but barely.

  “No!” Michael screamed. He looked back at his mother and wailed in anger and pain.

  That was Brienne’s official cue. She applied that last bit of pressure to the trigger and fired the first round from her rifle. The 5.56 mm round exited the barrel and in less than a second passed through Wilkins’ chest, out his back, and impacted the side of the house.

  Wilkins clutched at the wound, looking down as his shirt began to turn red with blood. “I’m shot,” he muttered.

  Curt looked for where the gunfire had come from, but before he could do anything, Brienne unleashed another round, this one hit Wilkins in the neck, then a third struck him in the solar plexus region. He stepped backwards two steps, fell down and choked on his own blood.

  The remaining group lifted their rifles and began to fire towards the creek bed.

  Enraged, Michael began his advance on the others,
his pistol out in front of him.

  Brienne spotted a woman who had pivoted with her rifle and was taking aim on Michael. Brienne squeezed off a round and struck her in the stomach, then a second that hit her in the upper chest. The woman fell to the ground dead.

  Bullets ripped past Michael, but it was like he was immune to getting hit. He aimed at one man and pulled the trigger several times, each round hitting the man, and killed him. He turned and took aim on another and did it again.

  Brienne watched Michael’s rampage with respect and awe, then went back to surveying the area to ensure that Wilkins and his people were dead.

  A man came around the corner of the house. He hollered as he came at Michael.

  Michael turned quickly and unloaded the remaining bullets into him.

  The man toppled to the ground feet away.

  Brienne looked but found no one else; however, she swore there had been another person.

  Smoke began to billow from the house.

  “The house is on fire!” Michael cried out. He ran to the side door just as the last of Wilkins’ people burst from it, a pistol in his grip.

  Brienne sighted quickly and pulled the trigger. The well-placed shot struck the man in his chest and dropped him where he was.

  Michael looked over his shoulder in Brienne’s direction and nodded his appreciation for the save. He stepped over the dead man and went inside only to find the entire living room and kitchen were engulfed in flames. Seeing there was nothing he could do, he retreated out the door and stood a safe distance away.

  With the area safe, Brienne stood and walked from her hide position. She advanced slowly, her eyes darting from one body to the next. She wasn’t going to take any chances that one couldn’t be feigning death.

  With the battle over, Michael turned and went to Nana’s side. He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, Nana.”

  Brienne checked on Tanya, but like Nana, she was dead. A bullet had passed through her heart.

  Michael raced back to Tanya, but this time, he lifted her and placed her motionless and dead body in his lap. Tears poured from his eyes, and the heat from the flames now engulfing the entire house was intense.

  Brienne stared at the sad scene. She had no words and found that if she did say something to Michael, it was meaningless. The poor boy had lost his entire family in the span of days. He was alone in the world, a world she despised above all else. She stopped trying to understand how it worked, as doing so was incomprehensible.