America's Sunset: A Post Apocalyptic Fight for Survival (14 page)

What she didn’t expect was to hear thunder in the distance on a perfectly sunny day without a cloud in sight as she turned onto the elementary school’s street. A couple of kids at the front of the bus heard it as well. The cool kids further back in the bus didn’t hear a thing.

Directly behind Birdie came a small voice. “Did you hear that, Mrs. Piper?” Freddie asked. “It’s not supposed to rain today. That couldn’t have been thunder.” Freddie was small for his age of eight, and one of the most polite little boys you’ll ever meet. Birdie had told him that some kids might think the back of the bus was cool, but she reserved the seat behind the driver for her favorites.

Rachael, his bus partner, bumped Freddie and gave him a disapproving look. “You know you’re not supposed to be talking to the bus driver when they’re driving. It’s distracting. See,” Rachael said, pointing to the rules posted above the windshield. “It’s right up there … rule number two.” She was of course right, it followed directly after rule number one, which stated that students must remain seated at all times while the bus was in motion. In those next few moments both rule one and rule two were about to be violated by most everyone.

Birdie had a perfect view of the school at the end of the bend in the street. The next explosion was the loudest, and most definitely louder than thunder. It came from the main office of the school, blowing shattered glass and bricks into the street. The flag pole in front of the school lay flat on the ground. Birdie slammed the brakes, bringing the bus to an abrupt halt. Anyone who had been violating rule number one would be regretting it about now. No one said a word for the next few seconds as they stared blankly down the street. Kids moved from the back of the bus to get a better view as two more explosions went off. They brought down the roof of the gymnasium. The school was a one-story building. The gymnasium, with its vaulted ceiling, stood out distinctly. At least it used to. Everyone watched as the smoke cleared. The roof collapsed into the center of the gymnasium and dragged the walls down with it. It was like one of those controlled explosions where an apartment building collapses into its own little footprint. Nice and neat. What was once the tallest part of the school was now a pile of bricks, ceiling tiles, basketball nets, multiple varieties of balls and a cornucopia of athletic sporting gear.

The initial reaction from the children was shocked silence … the same for Birdie. Then, like a panicked mob, they began firing an array of questions at Birdie. She didn’t know where to begin answering, even if she’d made sense of them. Freddie tried not to cry out loud, but couldn’t help himself. A few of the kids were deathly silent. Rachael jumped out of her seat, staring incredulously at the mob. “You all need to get back to your seats. We have to get out of here! Mrs. Piper can’t move this bus while you’re all standing here. It’s not safe.” The kids quieted down, and looked at her like she was a three-headed mule. “Now!” She pointed to the back of the bus, unwilling to budge till everyone obeyed her command.

Birdie scarcely looked behind her as she backed up the bus as fast as reverse would allow … even though some of the kids were in direct violation of rule number one.

Chapter 26 ~ Others

Harish needed to get out on his own for a while. The abandoned home he and Ahmed shared on the outskirts of town near the old factories was closing in on Harish. It smelled of rot and decay, and vermin. Most of all, it smelled of Ahmed’s enthusiasm for the days ahead. Harish had a hard time reconciling his feelings for his brother. On one hand, he thought about what Ahmed had said about their mother. How she had called him her
Little King
. He stopped thinking about her years ago … somewhere around the third or fourth foster home. He couldn’t quite remember which. Now he longed to know more about his forgotten childhood, where he came from. It’s remarkable what kind of protection the mind is capable of. How it can help you survive by blocking out the bad and only remembering the good. If that was the case, then why couldn’t he remember his mother? Was he too young? Ahmed seemed to have no trouble remembering stories from their youth. Assuming of course they were true. Harish wanted to believe, but he couldn’t be sure.

He walked down deserted, dimly lit streets. The factories were so old and neglected, it was hard to tell their original use. The only signs they displayed read
No Trespassing
, but the locked gates were all broken and swung freely in the evening breeze. Ahmed said they were a portent for the nation. Once mighty and productive, making things and promising a better future; now they stood on the threshold of collapse. Much like the old cotton mill destroyed by the water tower. Ahmed talked of that collateral damage as if it were divine intervention. As he walked towards the center of town, he could just imagine how it must look. Worse than the factories he walked by now. A thriving city would take months or years to recover from the destruction of the day. For a severely crippled town like Big Springs it may very well be a death knell.

Harish didn’t have good memories of his own schooling. He was always different, and always the new kid. His peers had all the reasons they needed to take out their own problems on him. Or just ignore him entirely; even worse. At first being ignored seemed an improvement. There were days when he was invisible, a shadow in the hall. Then, he found the other outcasts. The kids who for whatever reason didn’t fit into the mainstream. Mostly because they couldn’t speak English very well, or their skin was a different color, or they got busted one too many times for something petty. As he got to know them, he realized that the scary stories about them were over-hyped gossip. They’d been exaggerated over the years to the point of myth. The outcasts didn’t care, at least it kept the bullies away. Harish fit right in, and they taught him to be street tough. Not in the violent sense—regardless of what the gossip said—but in that they knew who to avoid and who to confront. Flying under the radar became second nature to Harish, and it had served him well, until now. He wondered how Ahmed would have grown up if he’d known Harish’s high school friends.

He passed the building that he and Ahmed had stood atop of earlier that day. There was motion up ahead in the dark. Mourners. Some had flashlights, but most just walked in the dark under the moonlight. The street was still wet, and the site was secured with yellow police warning tape, but the mourners crossed the line indiscriminately. One woman, standing just this side of the tape, was sobbing into the arms of a man, who held her. Others walked around with buckets, salvaging water that had pooled in low-lying areas. Was it that bad already? Harish thought.

Vehicles were rare in the street, but Harish could see headlights a few blocks away. He thought for a moment how strange it was compared to Houston. Walking the streets and seeing only one car made him realize just how far from home he was. It was getting late, and Harish started heading back. This was probably the longest he and Ahmed had been apart since they left New York. Ahmed was probably too busy reveling in his victories to notice the absence. It had gone all too well for Harish’s liking. Part of him wanted them to fail, for something to go horribly wrong. Even if it meant being caught and going to jail. At least then, the indecision would be gone and he wouldn’t be a murderer. There was still time, he thought. Maybe he could find a way to deter Ahmed from the plan. This was a whole new country now. It was crumbling, but perhaps that would make it easier for them to start anew. Somewhere not the desert, and not Texas. Maybe further south into Mexico. Did Ahmed consider Mexicans infidels?

Harish was deep in thought; other possible scenarios came to mind … an island somewhere perhaps. He didn’t notice that the headlights he’d spotted earlier were following him from a distance. They belonged to a large multi-purpose black transport. The vehicle killed its headlight as it got within a block of Harish. He would have thought it odd, if he’d focused on it, that it was different from the other vehicles still functioning. This one was newer, only a few years old, yet it still functioned in spite of the CME strike. A half block from Harish the van slowed and several men in black tactical gear hurried out and fell upon Harish. They secured his hands and mouth then carried him down an alley while the van followed, concealing their actions.

* * *

Harish quietly entered the abandoned home they’d been using as their base. His hopes that Ahmed would be asleep by the time he got home quickly dissipated as Ahmed confronted him entering the living room. It was barely a living room anymore, more of a garbage dump with furniture decorated in graffiti.

“Would it sound too clichéd to say I’d been worried sick about you?” Ahmed said. “Instead, let me remind you how unforgiving our Imam are about those who lose faith in their calling.”

“There’s no need,” Harish answered. “I haven’t lost faith, I just needed to clear my head. Even you must admit that today was draining. How can you not be affected by what's transpired? Half of me is relieved that it’s over, and the other half is in shock that we didn’t get killed or land in prison.”

“It’s not over, Harish. You know that. We’ve only just begun.”

“Yes, I know. I remember the plan, you don’t have to constantly remind me of it. Don’t you ever take a break? How can you be so persistent? The Imam must be pleased with our progress.”

“I’ve been waiting all my life for this. When the door of opportunity opens, you must seize your moment. There will come a time for rest later. And, as far as what our Imam thinks, I wouldn’t presume to know. They have eyes watching, and will let us know if things change. Unless they contact us, it is imperative that we follow the orders we’ve been given.”

“They have eyes on us?” Harish said, thinking back to the streets. “How do you know that?”

“The Imam never work in the dark. Allah sees all, and will share with us what is important, when it is important to do so. Trust in your faith, Harish, it will not disappoint.”

Harish paused briefly as he leaned his weight against the wall. “I saw the wreckage in town tonight.”

Ahmed was not pleased. “You walked into the downtown? What is wrong with you, Harish? Are you trying to give yourself away? We’re staying in this squalor for a reason. We don’t need to have people notice the strange foreigners with dark skin walking the streets in the aftermath of a terrorist attack. Did anyone see you?”

“Everyone in this city is wrapped up in their own misery. They’re all caught up in the destruction we caused. I could walk through the streets naked with a chicken on my head, and no one would remember me.”

“This is not the time for your humor, Harish. We need to go over the details of the coming days to be sure they’re fresh in our minds. The shock of today’s events will last for only a short time. Eventually the infidels will be doubly on their guard. We need to stay on schedule and move quickly.”

“Yes, of course we will,” Harish said. “First thing in the morning.” He left Ahmed alone, still talking, as he walked up the stairs to sleep off the nightmares of the day. He hoped, that the nightmares would drown out the secrets he was compelled to keep.

Chapter 27 ~ Hitting Close To Home

Maggie sat at the coffee table with both hands around her coffee mug. Holding the mug kept her hands warm and stopped them from shaking. They’d been shaking all morning, ever since the neighbors came by with the news of the attacks. Maggie wasn’t the type to let things bother her. She had her five minute rule, where she allowed herself five minutes to feel down and horrible when things went wrong. After that, it was back to the real world. Life was too short to let all the negative things drag you down. Something she’d learned from her mother, or more specifically a trait she disliked in her mother. As much as she loved her mom, the prolonged negative rants weren’t something Maggie wanted in her life.

This was different though. How do you process all that destruction in five minutes? At a time like this, she had to admit there was pure evil in the world. Why would someone do that? The community was already in trouble even before the CME hit. Many people were just getting by, and some not at all. Some just gave up and moved. Maggie had always liked small towns. Small towns were the kinds of places people came back to … came home to. Sure, she moved to the big city for a while after college like a lot of her friends, but eventually she came home. That’s what small towns were … home. She tried humming the melody to the ‘Where Everyone Knows Your Name’ song and smiled to herself.
Haven’t watched that show for years
, she thought,
but there’s a lesson to be learned there
.

Jake came into the kitchen through the back door. He noticed her iron grip on the coffee mug and rubbed his hand along her back on his way to pour his own coffee.

“Where’s Dawson and the kids? I thought they were coming over,” Jake asked.

Maggie looked up. “Not sure, I’d kind of lost track of time there for a minute. Maybe he’s explaining to the kids what’s going on.”

“That’s probably not a good idea. I should go over and get them. We need to get moving on this little tour if we really have to do it. I’m going into town to help with the cleanup. The more people, the sooner we can get it done.”

“Don’t be so hard on Dawson now. He’s got a lot of things to deal with already, and this is just going to make things worse. He and Chase seemed to be finally patching things up between them.”

“Glad to hear it. And the drinking?”

“I don’t know,” Maggie said. “Nothing that I’ve seen since the CME hit. Maybe one good thing will come out of this horror, and he’ll be too busy to mess up.”

“Were the kids on the bus this morning when the school blew?” Jake had a hard time believing he was even asking that question.

“No, thank God for small blessings. Veronica was supposed to be on the second bus run, and I don’t think Chase was going at all. He doesn’t think there’s any point in going to school when the power’s out, and Dawson decided that wasn’t a battle worth fighting.”

“Hmm, maybe there’s hope for him as a parent yet.”

“Now, Jake, there’s no need for—”

A knock on the door announced Dawson and the kids on the back porch.

“No need for what?” Dawson said as Jake let them in. “Sorry, I wasn’t eavesdropping, just couldn’t help overhearing.”

As if she knew exactly what Maggie needed, Veronica went straight for Maggie, giving her a big bear hug. Maggie smiled, letting go of her coffee mug to reciprocate.

“No need for Jake to start his next big crazy project,” Maggie answered Dawson’s question with a fib. “There’s enough work to be done around town today without him starting some crazy cock-eyed invention.” Still holding onto Veronica, Maggie mouthed the words silently to Dawson:
Does she know
? Dawson shook his head no, with closed eyes. The look on Chase’s face told Maggie that he knew. He appeared more solemn and sullen than your average teenage boy.

“So, are you excited to see Jake’s play fort this morning?” Maggie asked Veronica, holding her at arm’s length.

“I’ve never been to a real fort before.” Veronica grinned, shaking her head emphatically up and down. “Chase told me there are lots of secret rooms, and dungeons, and places to play hide and seek. That’s my favorite game, you know? I’m really good at it.” Veronica pulled at the buttons on Maggie’s sweater. “I don’t really know what a dungeon is, but Chase says they’re a lot of fun. Have you been to the dungeons?”

“Why no, I haven’t. It sounds really exciting,” Maggie answered. “I didn’t even know there were dungeons at the fort.” She looked at Jake and asked, half serious, “Are there dungeons at the fort, Jake? You never said anything about there being dungeons there. Is this another one of those things you’ve been meaning to tell me about?”

Jake hesitated for a moment, then caught a glimpse of Veronica’s excited face. “Of course there are dungeons there,” he said, kneeling and looking Veronica in the eyes. “Every little princess needs a dungeon to keep her pet dragon in. Where else would the prince come to rescue her from if she didn’t have a dungeon?”

“This princess doesn’t need to be rescued.” Veronica replied quite adamantly. “I can take care of myself, and I don’t want any stinky old prince coming into my dungeon anyways. Not unless I invite him.”

Dawson shook his head, Maggie smiled, Chase rolled his eyes, and Jake found himself caught at a loss for words.

“Oh, oh! Daddy, I forgot Bear. He’s still in my bed, and he really, really wanted to see the fort. Can you go get him?”

Dawson caught Jake looking at his watch.

“We really need to get going, hon, can we just let Bear see the fort another time?”

“Actually,” Maggie interrupted, turning to Chase, “could you take your sister back and get Bear? We wanted to talk with your dad about something anyways.”

“Sure, whatever,” Chase answered. He held the back door open. “Let’s go, kid, we’ll find Bear.”

* * *

Maggie watched Veronica skip up the laneway to her house, while Chase dragged his feet behind.

“How’s he taking it? Chase, I mean,” Maggie asked, looking out the window. “He seems quieter than usual.”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to tell with him sometimes. I’m not even sure how I’m dealing with it. I only told him because I figured it was better coming from me than from someone else.”

“And was it?” Jake said.

“I think so. We had a good talk the other day just after the CME hit. We seem to be making some headway, but it’s hard. There’s still a lot of tension. I know I have a long way to go.”

“You most certainly do,” Jake agreed. Maggie looked at him with eyes that said go easy.

“We found some common ground. Something that he’s interested in, like you suggested, Maggie. Thanks for that. I got talking to him about this game that he really likes to play. Or
used
to like playing, since obviously he can’t do that now.” Dawson paused and shook his head. “It’s odd the things kids like. It was some end of the world sort of thing, where you had to scavenge and fight these zombie-like things. Pretty depressing-looking stuff. He says he likes it because he gets to recreate the world the way he wants it to be.”

“We all try to do that, don’t we?” Jake said. “We’re all trying to build things and fix things, and get people to believe what we believe. Countries and corporations do it too. I suppose that’s part of the reason we’re in this mess now. Maybe not the CME thing, but these terrorist attacks feel like someone trying to make some big changes. Whoever is responsible clearly doesn’t believe what we believe.”

“Or,” Maggie started, as she moved from the window, “they’re tired of others telling them what to believe.”

“There are better ways to get your point across,” Jake said. “They’re animals. Immoral, barbaric animals. Destruction never brings anything but heartache. Cowards hide in the shadows and push buttons; it takes a real man to stand up and voice his opinion. That’s where real change starts.”

Dawson got up to look out the window towards his place.

“They coming back yet?” Maggie asked.

“Not yet. Sorry, Jake, I know you’re in a hurry,” Dawson said. “I’ll go see if I can find what’s keeping them.”

“Actually,” Jake said, “we’re both in a hurry. You’re coming with me to help with the cleanup in town.” Dawson started to say something, but Jake cut him off. “It’s not up for debate. Consider it part of your penance. Maggie offered to stay with the kids while we go. They can hang out in the
dungeons
as Veronica likes to call them.”

“You really do have dungeons under that place?” Dawson said as he started out the back door.

“Oh, you’d be surprised the things I have in that place.” Maggie just rolled her eyes. “They’ll be plenty safe in there till we get back. Hopefully the authorities will manage to figure out and apprehend whoever is responsible before then.”

Just as Dawson stepped outside, a sniper’s rifle buried a bullet in the door frame behind him. He instinctively hit the deck and rolled to cover behind the railing. Inside the house, Jake and Maggie looked at each other, their eyes both asking the same question.

“Was that a gunshot?” Maggie asked. They both looked to the back door, but couldn’t see anyone. “Dawson!”

Another shot sounded, and the window shattered, shards of glass clinking into the sink over dirty dishes. Maggie and Jake quickly found each other on the floor with their backs against the cupboards.

“Dawson!’ Jake called as he peered around the cupboards, scanning the back porch. “Are you alright? Can you hear me?”

“I’m here,” Dawson answered. “Don’t come out. I’m OK. I’m not hit, and I’ve got cover.”

“What the hell is going on out there?” Maggie called.

Dawson didn’t answer right away. “I can’t tell exactly where the shots are coming from. Out in the wooded area beyond the cottage somewhere.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Maggie said to Jake. “Why would someone be shooting at us?

“No idea,” Jake answered.

“You better not be hiding something from me, Jake Banner.” Maggie’s eyes were dead serious.

Jake looked incredulously at Maggie. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? What would I know about some crazy taking pot shots at us from the woods?”

“What exactly is in that damn cottage? There must be something in there that’s valuable enough for someone to start shooting at us.”

“C’mon, Maggie, you know everything that’s out there. You’ve been in the place plenty of times.”

“Dungeons? What’s in the dungeons?”

Jake didn’t answer right away as he peered around the cupboards. Maggie hit him in the shoulder.

“Don’t you ignore my questions, Jake. What’s this about dungeons?”

“That’s just kids making up stories.” He looked her in the eyes. “Someone must have found out about all the supplies stored in there. People are getting nervous. All these attacks today have made people desperate.”

“How could anyone know what’s in there? You only told your prepper group, and they’ve got their own stashes. They wouldn’t come after ours. Right? You said you had everyone on board, that they all had enough food and water to ride out something like this.”

“I did.” Jake agreed, nodding his head. “They do. I saw their setups. You’ve seen ours too. It must be someone outside the group.” Jake pointed with his thumb outside towards Dawson, and raised his eyebrows.

“No. No,” Maggie repeated. “Dawson wouldn’t tell anyone about what he knows. He’s not even sure what’s out there. Who would he tell?”

Jake shook his head. “Who knows who he gets talking to when he’s out on a bender? He probably can’t even remember who he talked to. Some girl, probably, who told her boyfriend about this crazy drunk guy that hit on her last week in a bar. Now those two are getting worried they won’t have enough food and water, and then all the shit goes down today. The girl’s probably shooting at us from some tree, while her boyfriend pillages the cottage.”

“That makes no sense. Why not just break in during the middle of the night, when we’re all sleeping?”

“Who knows? They’re probably all hopped up on dope, and thought it might be fun to play Bonnie and Clyde.”

Dawson tried looking over the railing, and another shot hit the roof posts. He ducked down and called inside. “I’ve got to get to the kids. If they come outside while all this is going on they could get …”

Maggie and Jake looked at each other. “We need to do something,” Maggie said. “We can’t just sit here waiting.”

“I’m going for the hunting rifles,” Jake said. He stayed on all fours and moved quickly across the kitchen floor to the dining room. The gun vault was in the study at the front of the house.

“Hang on, Dawson,” Maggie called out. “Jake’s getting guns. Stay covered and don’t move.”

“I’ve got to get to the kids, Maggie. Veronica will be freaking out. She’ll probably come looking for me. I’ve got to get to her first.”

“You can’t get to her with a bullet in your head. Just wait. Chase is with her. He’s a smart kid, he’ll keep her inside. Jake will be back. Don’t you dare move.”