Tuesday, November 16, 2010

American Apocalypse IV - Chapter 1a - by nova

Or I could have kept the Leader Brother alive and tortured him. I wouldn't have minded torturing him. I had never done it before, well, maybe once or twice, but I didn't give a shit. I was going to go house to house and kill everybody in this fucking town and then burn it to the ground. Nobody here was going to be living when I was done. Nothing was going to be standing to be remembered or used again when I left.

I was walking down the main street. I didn't care if anyone saw me. I hoped they did. I didn't have to worry about the watch on the roof this time. I had just thrown him off it a minute ago.

Beyond me the dogs, led by Woof, came up fast at a trot. One of them, the biggest Rottweiler, had the arm, well one of the Brothers arms, I couldn't tell if was the one I had removed from Mr. Stumpy locked in his mouth. He looked rather pleased with himself too.

I stopped for a couple beats to let them catch up while I listened to their claws scratch the asphalt and their breath being expelled from their lungs in deep rhythmic pants. I told Woof when he caught up with me "Damn. People call me a fast eater. What did you do? Woof it down." He wagged his tail, and I laughed. I was really starting to like Woof.

The house down from the main house had a garage. The doors were open and the hood of a truck stuck out maybe a half a foot. It looked like it was a pretty decent size one. Hopefully it ran. I had thirty miles to go to this Kid Leader School and I didn't want to walk it unless I had too. I was about halfway to it when someone took a shot at me from the open window of the house next to it. They missed.

I had the 30-30 in a sling but I didn't even think of it. I was beginning to wonder why I carried it. I filled my hands with both Ruger's. At the same I burst into a run and snapped off two quick shots. I ran straight at the house. As I did a couple of the dogs barked. In joy or because of the noise I didn't know. I did know they were loud. I was just as loud as I yelled "Freya!" and tried to do a 360 scan as I ran.

A light bulb went off in my head as I ran. It said "Hey dumbass. You know thing on your back we call a rifle? Might be a good time to use it."

"No shit" I thought. Holstering the Rugers and making a sharp zig because it seemed like the house was a mile away still and I could see movement at the window, while trying to pull the 30-30 was difficult. I managed it and was shot at and missed again. This one hit, ricocheted, and I heard a dog yelp. I pushed the safety in and fired from my hip and took out the window down from where I thought who ever it was.

Cursing and getting seriously pissed I didn't stop for the front door. I got lucky, it wasn't steel framed or locked even. I kept going through it, leaped a coffee table, and bounced off the wall hard. The stairs were to my left. I levered a new round in and started shooting through drywall and whatever the hell else they used to make houses around here. The house looked new so it was probably cardboard pulp and virgin nylon carpeting reinforced by pine boards.

The dogs went racing up the stairs. One of the Rottweilers was limping a bit. As he passed by he gave me a reproachful look. I wanted to yell "Not my fault!"but I was distracted by the sound of a door slamming shut. "Shit!" I thought "Lucky sonofabitch so far." I reloaded the 30-30 and listened to large dogs scratch at the door. I was going to have to go up there and finish this before one of them got hurt. I didn't bother to call them off. I doubted if they would listen and I couldn't think of a command that equaled "Get away from the door and get out of the way you dumb ass, rot breathed, stupid fuckers."

I fired another round where I thought I heard movement and rushed the stairs. I was about halfway up when I heard "I give up! I surrender!" I kept going, yelling at the dogs who were gathered around hallway at the top of the stairs trying to get in the bedroom door. I was surprised they hadn't. Those doors were usually as well built as the rest of the house. I kneed one of the dogs to get it to move and yelled "Come out now!" Then moved so they wouldn't place me by voice.

"Call off the dogs!"

Jesus. This was getting tiresome. I had a town to burn and miles to go. I booted the dog in front of me and yelled "Move! Out! Now!" Woof looked at me like I was insane, snarled at the one who scratching at the door which looked like one more big dog jump against it would bust it open, and got them moving down the stairs. Well, Woof stopped halfway.

I yelled "All right! Come out!"

The door open cautiously and a skinny white guy who looked like he once weighed a great deal more came out slowly with his hands raised. "Okay. I surrender! Be cool buddy."

I shot him in the head. The 30-30 round was pretty close to a .357 round in what it did to his head. I levered another round in, stepped into the room and made sure he was alone, then looked down at the body and said "Fuck you. Fuck you and your shitty little town." Then I kicked him in the balls. I picked up my brass and left him to the dogs who pushed up hard against me as I went down the stairs.

I began burning down the houses. They burned easier than I thought. About halfway through it occurred to me I might have wanted to wait until I found out if that truck I had seen worked. After all, the smoke was a signal to anyone nearby that bad things were happening here. I mentally shrugged and said "Fuck it. Let 'em come." I hadn't found anyone else. In fact I skipped a couple houses that weren't part of the main cluster that made up the village. They were at least a quarter to half a mile away. It was getting boring anyway. I was never a firebug except when I was young.

I began working in a rough circle with the goal of coming back to the truck. I would see if it ran. If it did, then I would load up the dogs, burn the main house down, and head down the road. The dogs were getting bored plus they didn't like the fire either. I had stopped to look at the one Rottweiler who had been nicked by the ricochet. He was fine but that didn't stop him from whimpering as I looked at it. Just a big baby was all he was. By the time I had begun working my way back they had all gone ahead of me and were sitting in the shade of a tree watching me or catching up on their sleep. Nothing like a full tummy to make you want to take a nap.

Inside one of the houses I found a half full box of posters. Dispatches from the Colonel. Propaganda for the people.


That there is only one God! That those who have undermined the belief in our God also work to destroy our world! We will not let them succeed!

The abolition of incomes unearned by work. The breaking of interest slavery and the BANKERS grip on our throats!

In view of the enormous personal sacrifices of life and property demanded of a nation in these troubled times, personal enrichment from loans and other financial skulduggery must be regarded as a crime against the people. We therefore demand the ruthless confiscation of all banker profits.

We demand the nationalization of all businesses which have been formed into corporations (trusts).

We demand economic reform suitable to the needs of the times and the people;
The prohibition of unions and the right to work!

The passing of a law instituting profit-sharing in large industrial enterprises.

The creation of a livable wage.

The restructuring of social security and welfare to exclude those who have stolen the peoples wealth.

The immediate enforcement of all laws deemed necessary to protect and defend the people!

Contact your local party representative for more information.

Next to the banner was a nice photo of the Colonel in uniform. He looked good. I doubted if he had missed many meals during PowerDown. Hell, he probably had desert when ever he wanted. The flyers made good fire starters.

I was down to six houses when the dogs started howling and then abruptly shut up. I looked out the window of the house I was getting ready to set on fire and saw them gathered around the porch of an old house. An old man was sitting out on it in a rocking chair looking at them and rocking slowly back and forth. He seemed calm and in no danger of being eaten anytime soon so I finished lighting off the house and walked over to see what was up.

He watched me approach. He was old. At least 50. Maybe older. I knew that because he had Old Guy ears and nose. I never saw it much before the crash but nowadays all the Old Guys had it. Some of them had so much fur growing out their ears that they reminded me of elves. Others had hair growing out of the tips of their noses. Sometimes it was long enough to look like nose antennas. He had both. I didn't find it endearing. For someone who so old he looked like he was in good shape. He had some broad shoulders under that shirt. I was going to see if he was wearing pads or armor under there. The only weapon I could see was a short handled sledge hammer standing head down next to his rocking chair. It looked well used and as old as he was.

The dogs moved reluctantly out of my way. I climbed up the stairs and said "Hey." I was tired now. The blind desire to kill had retreated into where ever it spent most of its time. Probably hanging out in front of my minds equivalent of a 7-11.

He replied "Hey. Them your dogs?"


He nodded his head, thought about it for a couple beats, and asked "They gonna eat me too?"

"I doubt it. They're pretty full and you don't look like you got a lot of meat on your bones."

He laughed. "Yep. This is true." He leaned forward a bit, stopping the rocking motion, and said "Well I think you kilt about everyone and you got a good start on burning the town down. Whatcha going to do next?"

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