Apocalyptic Visions Super Boxset (11 page)

***

Smith charged out of the capitol building, his face flushed red with anger. Jake followed him down the steps and around to where he knew he was heading: Jones's office.

“How the hell did he get those swing votes?” Smith said.

“I don't know, sir,” Jake said.

Jake skidded forward from Smith's abrupt stop. Smith pushed his finger into Jake's chest, wrinkling the checkered tie he was wearing.

“I want to know how it happened, and I want to know now,” Smith said.

“Yes, sir,” Jake said, burying himself in his phone, searching for answers for which he had no idea where to start looking.

When Smith made it to Jones's office, Cindy stood up to try and stop him from entering, but Smith shoved the doors open and saw Jones sitting leisurely at his desk, smiling.

“Hello, David,” Jones said.

“What did you do, Raymond?”

“I think it was more of what you did than what I did.”

“Did you threaten them? Hmm? Was that it?”

Smith had both fists knuckling into the wood of Jones's desk. He could feel the bones in his hands crunching and scraping from the pressure he applied to them.

“Well, whatever you did, you better hope you have more in the tank, because I will fight this bill and push back its Senate date until next year. This bill will not go into law until I stop breathing,” Smith said, pounding the desk before he turned to leave.

“The bill will be signed into law before the day is done,” Jones said.

Smith had his hand on the doorknob when he froze.

“What?” Smith asked.

“The Senate is voting on the bill as we speak.”

“That's impossible.”

“An extraordinary session enacted by the president, which is well within his authority.”

Smith felt his legs go heavy, like they were pulling him down, trying to drown him under the sea and bury him in the sand in the depths of the ocean.

“Troops are already being called back from the Southwest, and patrols have been deployed along the United States’ new western border,” Jones said, smiling.

Smith's tongue and lips felt numb. He tried to find his voice, but only hoarse whispers would leave him.

“You're a monster,” Smith said.

Jones threw his head back, his mouth wide open as his laughter erupted into the room. He clutched his belly and tilted his chair back.

“No, David. I'm necessary,” Jones said.

Emily stirred, mumbling something, pushing herself off the sleeping bag. John helped her sit up, and Brooke dropped the circuit tools she was using.

“Em, how are you feeling?” Brooke asked.

“Thirsty,” Emily answered.

John poured a cup of water from one of the jugs and handed it to her. Emily grabbed it with both hands and drank greedily.

Emily lowered the cup and rested it in her lap. Brooke brushed Emily's hair back, feeling her forehead. She was still warm, but nowhere near the level of before.

“What happened?” Emily asked.

“You were stung by a scorpion. Do you remember that?” Brooke asked.

“Kind of. I remember something burning my hand, and then I started getting dizzy. After that, I don't know what happened.”

Brooke kissed Emily's cheek, and John rubbed her back.

“You had us worried,” Brooke said.

“Sorry,” Emily replied.

“I'm glad you're okay,” John said.

“Where are we?” Emily asked, looking at their decrepit surroundings.

“We're at the solar station,” Brooke said.

“Cool,” Emily said.

Emily tried standing but lost her balance. John caught her before she fell and rested her back on the sleeping bag.

“You should still take it easy,” Brooke said. “We'll stay here for the night. I think we could all use the rest.”

***

After twenty minutes of being awake, Emily passed out. John wasn't far behind. It had been a long day for both of them.

Outside, the sun was sinking below the horizon. The desert sky filled with pinks, blues, purples, and oranges. The remaining glow filtered through the windows as Brooke sat on the ground, still hunched over the radio circuits, trying to repair them.

The battery connectors were corroded, and there were a few circuit tracks that had come undone, but after a couple hours, she had it repaired.

Brooke plugged the battery back in and turned the power knob on. The speaker of the radio blew static, waking both her kids.

“Mom!” both of them yelled.

“Sorry,” Brooke said.

She flicked through the channels, searching for any signals within range. It was a long shot but better than anything they had right now. Another blast of static came through, and then the robotic recording of the emergency broadcast system came whispering into her ears. Brooke turned the volume up to get a better listen.

“
Ladies and gentlemen, the president of the United States
,” a voice announced.

Emily and John both got up from their sleeping bags and walked over and crouched down with their mom on the floor. Then, in the silence of waiting for the president to speak, all of their phones started pinging. Brooke took out her cell, and text messages started to roll in, almost all of them from her sister. She had her index finger on the phone's screen when the president finally spoke.

“My fellow Americans. I speak to you all this evening with a heavy heart. Early today I informed the nation about the continuing water crisis in the Southwest. Reports confirmed that the Colorado Basin, which provides fresh water to most of California, Arizona, New Mexico, Nevada, Utah, and Colorado had finally run dry. All of my attention today has been directed on coming up with solutions that benefit not just the Southwest but the entire country.”

Brooke went back to checking her messages, the president's voice still lingering in her ear. She opened the first couple of unread texts:

“I'm trying to call you. Call me back, please!”

“Where are you? Are you on the road?”

“Brooke, it's important. Please, call me.
”

“Upon hearing the news of what was happening in the Southwest, I deployed forces to major cities, establishing martial law to ensure that civility and order were maintained during this trying time.
Now, we're all aware that the Southwest isn't the only portion of the country suffering from water shortages. The natural resources of our nation are dwindling drastically. It is because of this that Congress proposed a new but radical bill to ensure our great nation continues to survive.”

Brooke's thumb stopped scrolling through her sister's messages. She set the phone down. The back of its case ground against the dirty concrete floor. She bent over with her knees and palms resting flat on the floor. The radio was placed on the ground, and the three of them were circled around it.

“The states of California, Nevada, Utah, Arizona, and New Mexico are henceforth no longer a part of the United States of America. The new western border of the United States will run along the current borders of Texas, Colorado, and Wyoming and run up into Idaho and Oregon. All authorities have been notified of this bill, which was passed in both the House and the Senate, and I signed it into law just moments ago.”

Brooke felt light-headed. She wobbled on all fours. Of everything that she imagined, this was something she hadn’t seen coming.

“Patrols have already begun along the border, and any man, woman, or child from these former states that tries to cross our border will be considered an illegal immigrant and deported back to their region. Furthermore, any citizens within our new borders that try and traffic any man, woman, or child from these now banned territories will be punished to the full extent of the law.”

Brooke picked her phone up. There were at least sixty messages, but she scrolled up to the newest one she'd received. 

“They're exiling the Southwest. Get out as fast as you can. Stay safe. I love you.”

Even if Brooke made it through the desert, past the new border patrol, and somehow navigated her way through the rest of the states undetected and made it to North Carolina unscathed, she would be sent back on the first available flight. She responded to Amy's last text, unsure of how long communications would be back up and running.

“We're okay. On our way to North Carolina now. I'll call you as soon as I can.”

How could they do this? How could Congress pass something like that? But she knew exactly how. There were deals made to ensure the few that were in power remained safe and secure. She was sure that there were plenty of top officials the president had failed to mention who would be above the law, beyond the repercussions of the decisions made.

“This was not an easy decision to arrive at, but sometimes the hardest decisions are the ones we must make. To all the former citizens remaining in the Southwest, remember that you hold your destiny in your own hands. I know that you will find the courage and ingenuity to live on without citizenship in the United States. Form your own legislation and laws, but above all, keep each other safe. God bless us, and God bless the new United States of America.”

The radio squawked static and then was silent. Emily didn't understand, John looked afraid, and Brooke wore a face of anger.

Her country had just sentenced them to death. Now it wasn't just a race against running out of water, it was a race against every other person in the region. The moment the president signed that new bill into law was the moment this region became lawless. There were no rules, no courts, and no consequences.

Brooke and her family were stuck in the middle of the desert, surrounded on all sides by people looking for food, water, and transportation. Looking for whatever was left to survive. Looking for exactly what she and her family had. The world had just changed with the stroke of a pen, but she knew there would be people out there like her who could do some good.

Brooke checked the phone, but the one bar that her phone had displayed during the broadcast had disappeared. The authorities must have opened up the communication channels just for the announcement.

“Mom, what are we going to do?” John asked.

She looked back over to her children. Emily held onto John's arm, her eyes wide with terror.

“Are we still going to see Aunt Amy?” Emily asked.

This couldn't stand. People would fight it, and she would be one of them.

“Yes,” Brooke said. “We start tomorrow.”

Congressman Jones stood in the back corner of the Oval Office, watching the television crew set up the camera for the president's address. His curled smile had seemed permanently glued to his face ever since his legislation made it through earlier in the day.

Jones had conceived Bill HR 395150 more than four years ago, but it had been too radical to introduce then, so he waited. Patiently. The crisis with the Colorado River running dry was the perfect platform to launch it. Everything was starting to line up.

The bill represented the first step toward his ultimate goal. The puppets around him had no idea of its underlying purpose. All it represented to them was a way to save their own skins.

Standing there in the Oval Office, the most powerful room in the world, he felt invincible. Nothing could stop him now. Not armies or nations or politicians. No one.

The lights flashed on as the president entered, surrounded by his advisers, on the opposite side of the room from where Jones stood. He made his way around, shaking hands, thanking some key Capitol Hill constituents, until finally he was face to face with Jones.

“Congressman Jones,” the president said, extending his hand.

“Sir.”

“I think we all owe you a debt of gratitude for saving this country. Your timely action and political reach have ensured our nation will survive.”

“It was an honor to provide our people with resolution in this time of crisis, sir.”

The president leaned in to Jones’s ear. He kept his voice low. “What about our little problem of the troops that stayed behind? I heard there was some conflict?”

“We ran into a few issues, but I’m working on cleaning that up.”

The president leaned back and patted Jones on the shoulder wholeheartedly, like he’d just heard a good joke.

“Why don't you join me during the address? Tammy, you think we can find a spot up there for the Congressman?”

“Of course, Mr. President,” Tammy said.

The heat under the lamps was intense. The sweat beading on Jones’s forehead caused him to wipe it repeatedly, which reminded him of the sweltering, humid summers in Alabama. The sun would scorch him every day during his chores on the farm. He detested the heat, along with the town.

But that small rural community where he had grown up no longer existed. A sign of the times and dwindling resources, and also his sway with the resource committee to pull the town's funding.

Tammy switched a few of the men and women around the president to ensure a well-balanced picture. There was a perfect blend of conservatives and liberals—Republicans and Democrats—behind the president.

Jones knew why. His bill changed the structure of the country. It was a radical move. One that required the American people to know that the different sectors of government stood united behind the new piece of legislation.

Of course, it had to be faces the people could recognize and trust. There was Jones, a twelve-term congressman from the heart of the nation's south, who had worked his way to the top; Congresswoman Ford from Ohio, who had dedicated her life to the continued advancement of women’s rights; Attorney General Marcus Cobb, who was a vocal advocate of the American people's civil rights (as long as it didn't interfere with his delicate network of politicians and big business); Vice President Johnson, who made sure to attend church every Sunday; and Senator Harris, who was the self-made billionaire turned public servant.

The perfectly orchestrated crowd was set to ease the nation's worries. Jones knew the dangers ahead, but people cowered at the sight of their own shadows these days. And those cowering figures gave him confidence.

People could talk about their values and beliefs until they were blue in the face, but the fact was that when push came to shove, people would save themselves over others—the powerful “public servant” crowd around him not excluded. The allure of lavish lifestyles and power had them all intoxicated. Jones only needed to push a little further.

“Mr. President, we're live in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five,” the camera man said then extended his fingers in the air to continue the countdown silently.

Once the cameraman's finger hit one, he pointed to the president, and Jones watched the small red dot on the camera flick on, signaling they were live on air.