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Authors: Andrew Alexander

Tags: #Post-Apocalyptic | Dystopian | Vampires

A Town Called America (12 page)

BOOK: A Town Called America
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The next evening they continued their search until they reached a public library. Rick had remembered watching the news when Hurricane Katrina had hit Louisiana. What stood out in his mind was that not
one public library had been looted or damaged. For whatever reason, when disasters hit, no one ever goes to a library. To Rick, however, libraries offered a wealth of untapped knowledge.

Billy and Rick found road and city maps and how-to books on everything from cleaning and cooking meat to treating wounds. If information is power, then in a disaster, a library is the generator. Anything they could think of was there—from information on starting a fire with flint and steel, to a good novel to take their minds off reality for a time. The library they stood in showed no signs that a human had set foot in it since the day its doors finally had closed. For Billy and Rick, this place was a treasure trove of wealth and knowledge.

The two men had no problem starting a fire in a fenced in back porch, behind the library. Once intended for a Dumpster, it was perfect for a fire as there was a never-ending supply of paper. After spending some time reading, they slept through the day until sunset, when they awoke to start their mission once more.

They had collected maps, books, and government statistics on population density. The latter would come in very handy, as they needed to avoid heavily populated areas. They knew the numbers were no longer accurate, but it would still give them an idea of which areas had denser populations.

Once all their things were in order, they set out on their final attempt to procure medical supplies. As unremarkable as the city was, somehow it was still able to make them laugh and give them a couple of things that just made them wonder. At one point they came across a car in a building near the top of a set of escalators nine stories up. They just looked at each other and without words knew what each was thinking:
How the hell does a Toyota Corolla get to the top floor of a building?

The two men were moving through the night once more, hoping and praying they’d find what they desperately needed. Then something they didn’t expect or believe could be possible happened. From the rooftop of the building where they stood was the most remarkable site they’d ever witnessed. Like a beacon in the night guiding ships to port, what they saw would never leave them

TWENTY

F
rom the rooftop of the building where Rick and Billy stood, they saw the most remarkable sight they had witnessed in what seemed a lifetime. It was in fact a hotel; at least it had been a hotel at one time. It was at least thirty stories tall, and the top three floors were lit up with bright lights. How was this possible? Was everyone in the city living in a hotel?

After moving closer to the hotel by way of rooftops and fire escapes, the two clearly saw that it looked just like a modern-day military base. Outside the main lobby doors, under the covered roof that limousines once had parked under, were stacks of rocks and sandbags. Razor wire was spread around the perimeter, funneling anyone that dared walk up into a confined space directly in front of the armed men guarding the entrance. The outside of the building alone had at least ten people standing guard at various positions. Looking closer they saw men on the second floor as well as the fourth, in the windows, armed and looking very serious.

“How the hell are we going to get in there?” Rick asked. “Maybe we should just walk up and see if they’ll let us in the front door. Won’t hurt to try.”

“No, it won’t hurt unless they shoot us,” Billy responded.

After a short discussion, the two agreed they’d drop all their gear where they were, except for one weapon each. Although Billy didn’t
like the idea of going anywhere near the hotel, but he knew he couldn’t keep Rick away, and he didn’t want him going alone. They climbed down from the rooftop of the building where they stood, made their way to the street, and did their best to walk tall and give the impression that they should be there.

As they strolled up to the hotel, the armed guards didn’t say a word. They just watched with their eyes and their weapons at the ready as the two men walked by. Rick and Billy didn’t make it five feet into the hotel lobby before three men met them with questions. The first was short and stocky, maybe five six or seven. He didn’t look very intelligent or as though he had much responsibility, but he was clean-cut, with a military-style haircut. The other two were of average height and size and also clean-cut.

All three men were wore matching black jumpsuits that Rick didn’t recognize as being military except for the ranks on their collars, until he saw M.M. insignias above their right chest pockets.

The short, stupid-looking one, as Billy was thinking, surprisingly did all the talking. He wanted to know where they were from and where they were going. He wanted to know how they’d gotten to the hotel without security seeing them, where their belongings were, and whether they were armed. Billy and Rick answered his questions honestly, except regarding where they had left their equipment, and of course they didn’t mention Chris.

After the questioning, the M.M. soldiers took Rick and Billy’s weapons and told them they’d be returned when they left, as long as they didn’t cause any problems. The two agreed, not that either felt they had a choice. Down a dimly lit hallway and around a few corners, they walked, escorted by the soldiers, until they came to a small room where they were told to sit and wait.

The room was only ten by ten feet and was furnished solely with a wooden bench bolted to the floor. Unsure what they were waiting for or whether this was a setup, the two men just sat there.

Several hours later the door finally opened, and a man entered. Five feet ten inches tall, he was heavyset and dressed in the same kind of black jumpsuit the others were wearing. The only difference was
that he had the rank of colonel on his collar. He was clean-shaven and appeared to be very relaxed.

Rick and Billy were thinking the same thing: something wasn’t right with this whole picture.

“OK, right down to it,” the man said. “My name is Colonel Jackie, and this place is what I like to think of as Hotel Jackie. Wait…Have we met? You look familiar,” he asked Billy, who remained silent. “No, I don’t believe we have,” Jackie said, answering his own question. “OK, then. Well, I meet with everyone first before I decide whether they’ll stay. Now what are your questions? People always have questions.”

“Well,” Billy said, “what happens to people you don’t let stay?”

“Damn, son, I think you’re the first one to ever ask me that. How about this? I’ll give you a tour.”

Billy and Rick looked at each other before nodding. They followed Jackie as he walked them through the lobby to the elevators. First they went to the basement, followed by the main floor, then to the top floor. Jackie explained that despite what they may have heard about the M.M., it really was an important operation. He also spoke about the power source the building was using as well as its security. The hotel had been built in 2010, Jackie said, and was an absolute jewel. It had been—and still was—the most modern hotel in the world.

The building was completely self-sustaining. It has its own power source as well as water supply and treatment plant. It was constructed at the height of the “green” push, and the owner wanted to prove that a building could run on 40 percent of the power traditional buildings used.

The hotel was in fact twenty-seven stories high and filled with apartments. The top three floors had six apartments each, all with their own gardens to grow food which was processed in the kitchen and served in the restaurant or delivered by room service. Originally the apartment owners had access to the gardens, but now gardeners were part of the hotel staff. The roof had a series of windmills that produced power specifically for the lights in the building. Solar panels, which were also on the roof as well as the outside of the building, produced power
for the kitchen and elevators. All other power came from three turbo diesel generators in the basement.

Jackie explained that if the building were drawing its full capacity of power—meaning, if everything were turned on—the full fuel tanks and three generators could run the entire building for about thirty days. They also had three reserve tanks of diesel fuel, each twice the size of the generator’s main tanks. What that meant, Jackie explained, was that at minimal usage, the building’s power would continue for well over a year.

Jackie went on to tell them that they had shut off all nonessential power to the entire building, excluding the top five floors. Two floors were filled with hotel rooms in use, and three contained apartments for staff and soldiers. They ran heating and air conditioning on the rest of the floors to ensure there would be no issues with mold or corrosion. The building, in Jackie’s words, was perfect.

Jackie had been the head of security for the building when the government had collapsed. He told Billy and Rick that he’d been living in a room in the hotel until it was announced that the power grid was going to be lost, after which he didn’t open up the building for anyone to come in. Everyone who’d been staying there at the time left, and he had been the self-appointed manager ever since. It had been his building until the M.M. had recruited him.

“They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” he said with a chuckle.

Rick asked, “What? The barrel of a gun?”

They knew Jackie hadn’t told them the entire truth, but it didn’t matter because he held all the cards as long as they didn’t have access to their weapons.

At the end of the tour, Jackie told them they were welcome to stay if they followed all the rules:

  1. You must not leave the hotel rooms during hours of darkness.
  2. No fighting allowed.
  3. You must work at an assigned post every other day during your stay.
  4. You must stay out of the basement unless escorted.
  5. For sanitation reasons the kitchen also is off limits.

“Colonel Jackie, I’ve listened to everything you’ve said, but honestly I have no idea what the M.M. is,” Rick said. “I mean, I’ve heard of them. I know they’re military, but what is the M.M. exactly?” He knew what it was; he was just curious to hear Jackie’s answer.

“Wow. Have you been under a rock for the last ten years?” Jackie said. “OK, let me explain. ‘M.M.’ stands for ‘Mors Mortis Military’; ‘Mors Mortis’ is Latin for ‘death.’ The M.M. is now the government, and everything you see here, or anywhere for that matter, is theirs. You’re standing in one of many newly acquired military complexes, and I’m in charge of this entire sector. It’s my duty to protect this post and see to its daily operations as well as oversee the shipment of goods from all warehouses in this area.”

“The M.M. doesn’t steal or kill, as I’m sure you have heard,” he continued. “We acquire people’s personal goods to distribute to the masses. We understand there can’t be personal goods in times like these. In order to rebuild this union, we all do our part.”

The two just listened, nodding occasionally.

The final question Billy had for Jackie was about medical supplies and whether there was a way to acquire them; being military, they must have them. Jackie told them not to worry; they could work something out.

Jackie left, and a soldier who’d been following them on the tour escorted them to their room. When they entered the suite, it was breathtaking to say the least.

“We could get Chris and stay here forever,” Rick told Billy.

“Now hold on there, Ricky. This is nice and all, but it don’t feel right. You can’t trust the M.M. they have a bigger agenda than just taking people’s shit.”

Billy stood near the door, mulling everything over, as Rick moved around the room, checking out everything, from the lights to the hot and cold water in the bathroom.

The room was a luxurious suite with a fully stocked bar in the corner and a private balcony that overlooked the city. Two huge couches sat in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. There were two bedrooms and two bathrooms, each with a Jacuzzi tub and a floor-to-ceiling
window. Tucked away in the corner of the main room was a pool table, a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, and a built-in shelf filled with DVDs.

Rick didn’t just feel at home; he was convincing himself that once Chris was there, they would be home.

Billy, on the other hand, wasn’t comfortable and not easily impressed. What he hadn’t told Rick was why he’d been so nervous to enter the building in the first place. He had dealt with the M.M. in the past and was quite aware of who and what they were in all aspects. For his own reasons, he decided not to tell Rick any of this and did his best to pretend he knew nothing. He just told Rick there were too many unanswered questions. Why did Jackie avoid answering his question about people who had left? Why did they let them in so freely?
Everything costs something
, he thought.

Billy tried talking Rick into leaving, but Rick was caught up in the moment and not considering the bigger picture.

TWENTY ONE

C
hris had been tending the horses. The stable was in fair shape overall, and there was plenty of grass for the horses to feed on. It wasn’t huge, but there were nine stalls and plenty of room for her to do what she needed.

Off to the left of the large main doors, another door led to an office and a break room. There wasn’t much there, except for a couch as well as a few books lying around. After Billy and Rick had departed to search for medical supplies, Chris sat and read for a short while. Nothing really seemed to catch her attention, but when she was trying to pass the time, a good car magazine always did the trick.

Just after midnight, she sat looking out the window of the office. She could see a good distance in front of the stable, perhaps six hundred yards, through an overgrown pasture with the remains of what she thought once had been a farmhouse. There wasn’t anything left of it other than the foundation and a pile of rotting wood, but Chris still thought it might be worth checking out later.

BOOK: A Town Called America
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