Countdown to Armageddon (20 page)

-36
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     Misty Plain Drive was on an eight degree grade. Skateboarders loved it. School kids walking home from school each day, didn’t. Especially when they were loaded down with school books or band instruments.

    Door to door salesmen seldom came on
Misty Plain Drive. It just wasn’t worth the effort. Residents were even insulated to a large degree from Jehovah’s witnesses, who tended to go elsewhere to talk to people about Jesus.

     And so it was that the last quarter mile of Joyce’s journey was also the worst. She was already exhausted by the time she got to the end of the street, and just didn’t have the energy to put forth the extra leg muscle it took to get up that hill.

     Zachary watched from the window in his Dad’s bedroom as Joyce finally got off the bike and walked it the last hundred yards. Under other circumstances, he’d have thought of some smart aleck remark to say to her about it. Something about old women’s bodies not being up to the task.

     But these weren’t ordinary circumstances. He’d cut her some slack today and let this one pass.

     Instead, he met her at the front door, stood to one side as she wheeled the bicycle into the house, then gave her a really big hug.

     For Joyce, it was exactly what she needed.

     Zachary relocked the front door and quickly filled Joyce in on what he had done. Then, as his father had instructed, he headed back up the stairs to continue his watch.

     Joyce stopped him halfway up the stairs.

     “Zachary?”

     He turned to look at her.

     “Great job! I’m very proud of you.”

     He smiled. Then he turned and headed back up. It was nice to be appreciated. And yes, he was kinda proud of himself too.

     Joyce got a bottle of water from the refrigerator and was happy to see it was still cool. As long as they kept the refrigerator door closed as much as possible, the food inside would stay fresh until they were long gone. Then the scavengers could help themselves to whatever was left. 

     She downed the water, almost in one gulp. She wasn’t in bad shape for a woman her age. But she wasn’t in such good shape that the bike ride she’d just finished was a piece of cake, either. It had kicked her ass. Especially the last couple of miles. And the incline up
Misty Plain Drive, that final kick in the teeth, was like pouring salt in a wound. She hoped Linda and Jordan didn’t struggle as much as she had.

     She tried the radio to see if anyone else was on.

     “Scott, this is Joyce. Are you on?”

     Nothing.

     “Linda? Jordan?”

     Nothing for a few seconds. Joyce was getting ready to turn the radio back off when it sprang to life.

     “Joyce, this is Linda.”

     “Linda, where are you?”

     “I’m sitting in a deserted car a couple of miles from the house. My bike was stolen. I’m okay, though. I should be there about nine o’clock or so. Are you at the house yet?”

     “Yes. I just got here. Zach is here too. You should be very proud of him, Linda. He followed his instructions to the letter. He’s turning into a fine young man.”

     Zach was listening in from Scott’s bedroom and couldn’t help but break in.

     “Hi, Mom. Are you sure you’re okay?”

     “Yes, honey, I’m fine. And good job! I’m so proud of you!”

     He grinned from ear to ear.

     Joyce got back on.

     “Linda, have you heard from the other guys?” 

     “No, I’m afraid not. I’ve been trying off and on to get hold of Jordan, but he’s been off the air for awhile now. I hope he’s okay. I think Scott is probably still out of range.”

     “Yes, I agree. I’m going to leave my radio on all the time now that I’m at the house. When they call in, are there any messages you want me to pass on?”

     “Just tell them to be careful and give them my love. I’m heading back out in a minute, and I’ll see you soon.”

     “Okay, be safe.”

-37
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     Joyce was certain that Scott was feverishly working his way off the mountain to them. She wasn’t worried about him. Jordan, on the other hand, weighed heavily on her mind. They had grown quite close during the previous months. And although he wasn’t her son, she pretty much considered him so.

     She went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator just long enough to remove a few things. A package of bologna. A jar of mayonnaise, another of mustard. A head of lettuce and a couple tomatoes. She laid everything on the counter and closed the door quickly, to keep most of the cold air inside, and spent the next ten minutes making a dozen sandwiches. She wrapped each of them in plastic zip-lock bags and returned everything but two of the bagged sandwiches to the refrigerator.

     Then, on a lark, she opened the door one last time and took out a third sandwich, and two cans of Coca Cola.

     At the top of the stairs, she called out to Zachary.

     “Are you hungry, sweetie?”

     “I’m starving.”

     She handed him two of the sandwiches and a soda and said, “Sit on the bed and take a break. I’ll stand at the window and watch.”

     Between mouthfuls he asked, “Joyce… are you scared?”

     “Of what, honey?”

     “Oh, I don’t know. Of all the violence that’s going to take place, I guess.”

     “Well, not really. I mean, I suspect that most of the bad people out there think this is something going on with the power company. Most people probably think the lights are going to come back on any time, like they’ve always done before. I think that possibility will keep most of the bad guys off the streets tonight. There will probably be some looting, but I think they’ll hit the stores, not the homes. I mean, the stores can’t shoot at them, but homeowners can. I don’t think it’ll get dangerous in the neighborhoods for at least a few nights. And we’ll be long gone by then.”

     “I’m worried about my friends.”

     “Oh, I know, honey. I’m not going to try to make light of the situation. It won’t be easy on them. They’ll have a much harder time of it than we will. But they’ve all got parents and other loved ones who will help them get through it.”

     “Is it true that people will have to grow everything they eat from now on?”

     “Well, not right away, but eventually. I mean, there’s a lot of food out there now, in people’s cupboards, and in the supermarkets. No one is going to starve right away. But there’s no way to make more of the kinds of foods you find at the supermarkets. Or a way to get it there. So after a few days or weeks, it will start to run low. And then people will have to start making some pretty tough choices. Either to steal it, or to find a way to make their own.”

     The radios squawked once more.

     “Dad, Mom, Joyce, Gooberhead. This is Jordan. Is anybody out there?”

     “Go ahead,
Jordan.”

     “Joyce, is everybody okay?”

     “Yes, dear. Are you getting close?”

     “Yes, ma’am. I can’t talk long, I see someone coming up ahead. We had to take a detour, I’ll explain later. We should be there in an hour or so. Gotta go. I’ll call again when I can.”

     Joyce looked at Zachary. They had the same thought, but only Joyce voiced the words.

     “Did he just say ‘we?’”

     Zach shrugged his shoulders and said “Yep. Twice.”

     He finished his second sandwich and asked, “Want me to take watch again?”

     “Yes, please. It’s starting to get dark, and I need to get the candles lit.”

     She left Zach in the upstairs bedroom and made her way back to the kitchen, where she collected a lighter and made her way around the house, lighting the candles that Zachary had put out earlier. She saved Scott’s bedroom for last, and told Zach, “I’m going to leave this room dark for now, sweetie. That way people on the outside can’t see you from the street when you look out the window. Is that okay with you?”

     “Sure, no problem. Joyce, what do you think Jordan meant when he said ‘we?’”

     “I don’t know, honey. Maybe he has a mouse in his pocket?”

     Zachary found this incredibly funny and laughed. It was the first good laugh he’d had all day.

     Joyce asked, “Is your radio on?”

     “Yes.”

     “Good. I’m going downstairs to prepare the weapons and start making preparations to evacuate. Call me if you see anyone coming near the house. And for sure call me when you see your mom or brother approaching, so I can let them in.”

     “Yes, ma’am.”

    Then he smiled and said, “But be sure you tell
Jordan he has to leave his mouse outside.”

     At that moment, Duke began to bark in the back yard.

     Joyce said, “You stay here. I’ll check it out.”

     She walked across the hallway to the bedroom at the back of the house.

     Blowing out the candle in the center of the room, she proceeded to the window and pulled the drapes to one side. Then she raised up the corner of one of the blinds and peeked into the back yard.

     Duke, a four year old black lab, was barking at the neighbor’s cat, who was perched atop the fence mocking him.

     She reclosed the draperies, relit the candle, and eased back to Scott’s room.

     “He’s just barking at the cat next door. It’s nothing to worry about. I hope they go at it for awhile. His barking will scare off anybody we don’t want back there.”

     “There’s somebody coming up the street.”

     Joyce stood behind him and looked over his shoulder. It was a man she’d never seen before.

     “Do you recognize him?”

     “It might be Mr. Garcia. He walks kinda the same way. Kinda hard to tell without any streetlights.”

     In the moonlight, Joyce could make out something in the man’s hand. She couldn’t tell what it was, though. It wasn’t long, like a rifle. It was more square, like a…

     Zach beat her to the punch.

     He said, “He’s carrying a briefcase.”

     They watched as Mr. Garcia, an insurance salesman, walked up to the front door of his house across the street. For him it was the end of a long walk, from his car that had died several hours before and several miles away. They watched as his wife opened the door and hugged him, a lit candle in her hand. Then they disappeared inside their darkened house and closed the door.

-38-

     Joyce went downstairs to Scott’s office. She went into his closet and moved several boxes out of the way, until she came to a long gun case hidden behind them.

     The combination was Scott’s birthday, 1227.

     She opened the case and removed five weapons that were nesting on the soft gray eggshell foam inside. Two AR-15 rifles, and three 9mm handguns. She put all the weapons aside, closed the case, and returned it to the corner of the closet.

     The ammunition was stored separately, but she knew where it was too.

     She walked up the stairs to Scott’s dresser and pulled the bottom left drawer completely out. Months before, Scott had removed the locking mechanism that prevented it from being pulled too far out. It was the only drawer in the dresser that could be completely removed.