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Authors: Nicholas Antinozzi

Tags: #adventure, #post apocalyptic, #economics, #survival, #anarchy, #adventures, #adventure books, #current events, #adventure action, #economic collapse, #current, #survivalist, #adventure fantasy, #survivalists, #adventure novel, #survivalism, #adventure thriller, #defense, #adventure fiction, #economic freedom, #adventure story, #government collapse

Desperate Times (3 page)

BOOK: Desperate Times
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Jimmy nodded, accepting what Bill had said.
Bill’s days were spent at the window, waiting for Tina to come back
to him. Jimmy wanted to accept what Paula had told him. Right now
he didn’t have much choice. The pain was subsiding and he knew the
clock was ticking.

 

 

Three

 

 

Zimbabwe’s inflation rate was estimated to be
as high as 79.6 billion percent per month. Those who managed to
survive in post Second World War Hungary would consider them lucky.
Try to imagine living with an inflation rate of 12.95 quadrillion
percent per month.

 

The thought is unfathomable. The numbers are
too large.

 

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Paula said.
“This is a joke, right
?”

 

After finally getting Bill to go home, Jimmy
had changed clothes and made coffee. Paula had straightened up the
kitchen, swept up the broken glass and washed the floor. She opened
a window and a slight breeze brought fresh air inside the trailer.
She now sat at the table with her arms crossed. Jimmy’s head
throbbed. The bleeding had stopped and he knew that time was a
luxury he couldn’t afford. He told Paula everything. She sat there
and stared at him with sad, empty eyes, as if he were telling her
that he’d just been sold the Brooklyn Bridge. Telling the story
himself, he began to have doubts of his own. If those words hadn’t
come out of Ken Dahlgren’s mouth, he never would’ve believed them.
He had to keep working on her. He emptied a sweetener packet into
Paula’s cup and stirred the coffee with a spoon. He sat down next
to her and handed her the cup.

 

“Ken thinks things are going to get bad. I
agree with him. Do you really want to be here if the government
declares martial law? Honey, what are we going to do when there’s
nothing on the shelves at the grocery store and no gas at the
pumps? We’ve got to get out and get out now.”

 

Paula sipped at her coffee and lit up a
cigarette. She had dressed in jeans and a tee shirt; her golden
hair was pulled back into a ponytail. One look at her blank
expression and Jimmy knew she hadn’t heard a word he’d said. “So,
we just go on vacation with the Dahlgrens?” she asked
sarcastically. “What if he’s wrong? Have you even stopped for a
moment to think about that? We leave, the world keeps chugging
along and what do we come back to? They’ve got money, we don’t.
What are we supposed to live on? I am not asking my parents for
money, Jimmy, not a dime.”

 

“Come on, I would never ask you to do that.
We’re just getting out of Crown until things get back to normal.
Ken has his place stocked and it’s all ready to go. That isn’t like
going on vacation. We’re just being careful, that’s all.”

 

Paula rolled her eyes and took a long pull on
her menthol. “Go ahead. I’ll just go back home. I’m sure my parents
won’t be running away.”

 

Those were the words he’d been both dreading
and expecting. “You don’t understand,” he said, reaching across the
table for Paula’s hand.

 

Paula jerked it away and stood up, her face
reddening. “What don’t I understand, Jimmy? That Ken Dahlgren has
cut your hours in half, making us live in the poorhouse for the
past six months while he spends buckets of money on his lake place?
He doesn’t care that we’re behind on our lot rent and your truck
payment! I understand that, Jimmy. I get that!”

 

“Please lower your voice, Paula. Let’s just
talk rationally about this,” said Jimmy, holding his hands up to
her. “There’s no need to yell.”

 

“Don’t tell me what to do! You come blasting
in here, practically accuse me of cheating on you, and then you’ve
got the guts to ask me if I want to run away? Why, Jimmy, why?
Because Ken Dahlgren says we should? What the hell does he know?
Does he have a crystal ball to see into the future with? Is Ken
going to make our payments for us while we’re gone? Is he? What
happens when this is all over? We won’t have a home to come back
to. Your credit will be shot and you won’t have a job. What are we
supposed to do then, smart guy?”

 

Jimmy felt the anger welling up inside of him
and fought desperately to control it. Paula stood at the sink, her
eyes wet and full of contempt, her arms crossed at her chest. “Just
think about it,” he said in a calm voice. He then pulled the
envelope from his back pocket, opened it up and began to count out
hundred dollar bills onto the table.

 

“Where did you get that?” Paula spat. “Why
didn’t you put that money in the checking account so we could get
caught up around here?”

 

After Jimmy had counted ten of the
hundred-dollar bills, he returned the remaining bills into the
envelope and slipped it back into his pocket. “There’s a thousand
bucks. Ken gave it to me, to
us
. If you really want to go
stay with your folks, just take it. I suggest you buy food and gas
as fast as you can. When the trucks stop running, the stores will
be empty and all that cash won’t buy you a pizza.”

 

“Right,” Paula grumbled.

 

“I’m heading over to Saint Cloud; I’ve got
some things I have to get over there. I should be home in a couple
of hours. Just think about what I said, okay?” He got up from his
chair, his eyes locked on hers. “I love you, Paula. I want you to
come along with me. We’ll be safe up there. Let’s just give it a
week or two. That’s all I’m asking. Think about it?”

 

“Whatever,” Paula said, turning away from
Jimmy as he tried to kiss her.

 

“I love you,” Jimmy whispered into her ear,
kissing her cheek.

 

“I might not be here when you get back.”

 

“I hope you are,” answered Jimmy. He then
donned a Twins cap from the hook by the door and walked out into
the bright sunshine. He pulled his sunglasses from his shirt
pocket, watching with dismay as one of the lenses fell to the
ground. He tried to straighten the bow and saw that it was a lost
cause. He dropped them where he stood and started to walk. He could
feel eyes upon him, looked up and saw Bill watching him from his
driveway. Bill waved meekly and Jimmy nodded in his direction.
Jimmy lit up a smoke and began to walk back to the Mack, his
thoughts jumbled, his hands trembling.

 

“Care if I ride along?” asked Bill, who was
suddenly standing beside him.

 

“What?” asked Jimmy, knowing Bill must’ve
heard everything that had been said.

 

“To Saint Cloud,” said Bill. “You look like
you could use a friend.”

 

“You heard us, didn’t you?” asked Jimmy, not
losing a step.

 

“It was hard not to.”

 

“Fine,” said Jimmy. “Not a word of this to
anyone, understand me, Bill? You’ve got to keep this under your
hat.”

 

Bill nodded, waddling along as Jimmy
stretched his legs. “I understand.”

 

They walked the three blocks without another
word, passing the yapping terriers without so much as a second
glance. Bill hopped up into the passenger seat as Jimmy hit the
ignition and released the air brakes. The large diesel engine
hummed as Jimmy began going through the gears. Soon they were
making the left onto Highway 95 and heading toward Saint Cloud.

 

“She doesn’t want to go?” asked Bill,
watching cattle graze in a field outside his window.

 

“I’m not sure,” said Jimmy. “I guess I’ll
find out when we get back. She’s got to think about it. All I could
do was ask her. I know it sounds crazy, but I had to ask.”

 

“It doesn’t sound crazy,” said Bill, turning
to face Jimmy. “Not to me. I’ve been watching this thing for a
while now, and the bottom’s about to drop out. I’ve tried to warn
people, but nobody listens. They’re scared and they don’t want to
know. They don’t want to believe it could happen.”

 

“You got that right,” agreed Jimmy.

 

“I’ve read that this is all a conspiracy to
create a one-world government. I don’t know if I believe that. Then
again, a lot of people are saying that these are the end times.
Have you heard any of that?”

 

Jimmy nodded. He’d heard the dire warnings
the extremists were saying on television.

 

“I don’t know about any of that, but it sure
makes you think, doesn’t it?”

 

Again, Jimmy nodded. He definitely didn’t
want to think about that.

 

They rolled down Highway 95, passing what
little traffic there was on this beautiful, early summer morning.
They’d talk for a few minutes and then ride in silence for a few
more. The radio was set to a classic rock station, playing softly
over the rumble of the engine and the whine of the truck tires on
asphalt. Before they knew it, it was after ten and they were on the
outskirts of Saint Cloud.

 

“Look at that,” said Bill, pointing out the
windshield. “Ten bucks a gallon!”

 

Jimmy squinted in the bright sunshine. “Are
you kidding?”

 

“That station, there,” said Bill. “Look at
the line!”

 

Jimmy found the sign above the busy gas
station and saw that Bill’s eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on him.
Cars were lined up to the street, and people were milling around
outside the station. Jimmy returned his attention to the road, and
after a silent mile he signaled his turn into the jam-packed Town
Square Mall parking lot. Many of the shops had been closed for
months, and there’d been talk that the mall would be closing its
doors soon. The crowd only added to the empty feeling in Jimmy’s
stomach.

 

“Looks like the Christmas shopping season has
started early,” said Jimmy, parking the truck in front of an empty
flower shop on the far side of the lot.

 

They got out of the truck and made their way
to the mall entrance, doing their best to avoid the cars that
buzzed angrily around the large lot. Horns blared in the distance.
Jimmy knew they wouldn’t have much time. Leading the way, he walked
briskly through the doors of the mall and made straight for the
drug store. Bill followed, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of
his rumpled sweat suit.

 

To Jimmy’s relief, he got the last available
shopping cart and began to fill it immediately. The prices had
doubled on most items, but Jimmy plowed ahead. Toothpaste, shampoo,
bar soap, deodorant—he grabbed six or eight items at a time. He
felt as if they were in one of those super market contests where
people try to spend as much money as they can in as little time
possible. Bill would occasionally hold something up and Jimmy would
just nod, knowing they’d likely need it at some point. He grabbed
bags of disposable razors, lotions, ointments, bandages, whatever
caught his eye. The cart filled up quickly.

 

“See if you can find another cart,” said
Jimmy, pointing to a display of toilet paper. “You can never have
enough of that,” he said in a whisper.

 

“That’s always been my motto,” agreed
Bill.

 

They continued shopping that way, braving the
ever-growing throng of ill-tempered shoppers, filling carts and
paying much too much for the purchases before returning to the
truck and stowing their cargo in the back of the van. Each time
out, Jimmy would snap on the padlock and eye the lot suspiciously.
After their last stop at the hardware store, the envelope had grown
considerably lighter. He flipped through the bills and found he’d
spent over six thousand dollars. Checking his watch, he could
hardly believe his eyes. It wasn’t even noon yet. As much as he
detested shopping, he hated to admit to himself that it’d been fun.
He knew Bill had enjoyed himself. Having long gotten past asking
Jimmy if he wanted something or not, he’d simply walked the aisles
like a big spender and tossed whatever he picked up into the
shopping cart.

 

“That’s it,” said Jimmy, snapping the padlock
shut on the back of the truck. “Are you hungry? I’m starved.”

 

“I could eat,” agreed Bill, rubbing his
stomach.

 

“Here’s a fifty,” said Jimmy, pulling a bill
from the front pocket of his jeans. “Run over to that sub shop over
there and get whatever you want. Hell, grab two of whatever you
want. Just surprise me, no onions. You got that?”

 

“Sure do,” said Bill. “One onion sub, hold
the meat. I got it.”

 

“Funny.”

 

“I do have my moments,” answered Bill,
trundling off toward the shop.

 

Jimmy watched Bill go and felt his shirt
pocket for his cell phone. He walked to the front of the truck and
leaned against the hood. The midday sun had warmed it until it was
hot to the touch. A bank thermometer announced the temperature at
eighty-three degrees. Jimmy punched in his home telephone number
and listened as it continued to ring on the other end. He
disconnected as soon as the answering machine picked up. His heart
sank. He then tried Paula’s cell phone. She answered on the fifth
ring.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey baby, we just finished up in Saint
Cloud. We’re pulling out now. Where are you? I tried the house
phone…”

 

For a long while there was no reply from the
other end. Jimmy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. For a
moment he thought they’d been disconnected.

 

“I’m driving, Jimmy,” she said cryptically.
“I’m just driving. So much happened this morning, I don’t know what
to think. I turned on the news when you left. I’m sorry I didn’t
believe you. We’re in some serious shit. I took some money and went
shopping and bought some stuff. Not much, but I didn’t know what
else to do.”

BOOK: Desperate Times
13.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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