The End Boxset: Postapocalyptic Visions of an Unstoppable Collapse Page 8

  “Yes, I agree. We're not going anywhere,” Bill gladly said.

  Jeremy threw up his arms. “Fine, I knew this was mistake.”

  “Just let us know how you're doing once you get to Tennessee,” Bill said.

  Phillip was strangely quiet during the exchange. Maybe he was content enough to see how things had unfolded. Jeremy, however, wasn't done yet.

  “You know what? You guys don't believe me, okay, I get it. But I'm not leaving until you pack your bags and get into the truck. That's all there is to it.”

  “Jeremy—” Bill started.

  “Forget it dad,” Jeremy sat on the couch, arms folded,” I'm not going anywhere.”

  “Now you're just being stubborn,” Lorraine said.

  “Yes, and some of us have to work in the morning,” Bill continued.

  Jeremy sat, not saying another word. His parents continued to go on about how they weren't going anywhere and that he was wasting his time. It was a tug-of-war and no one was budging.

  “I believe him,” Phillip said much to everyone's surprise.

  “It's not that we don't believe him,” Bill said.

  “No, hear me out. Let's give him a chance. We could throw a bag together, for like the weekend or something, go with him and if it happens, it happens, but if it doesn't, even better.”

  “You're not invited, asshole,” Jeremy said.

  “Very well. I'll stay here and watch the house while you guys lay low. How about that?”

  Bill looked confused. “Phillip, I don't really think—“

  “I think he has a gun in his jacket pocket. Follow me on this,” Phillip discreetly whispered to Bill.

  Phillip turned to Jeremy. “Jeremy, I just thought of something. While your parents pack, let's drive over to Linda's house—“

  “I don't want to hear her name come out of your mouth again,” Jeremy said.

  Phillip tried to sound as diplomatic as he could. “She's told me about you, Jeremy. She still cares about you. She always will.”

  “Stop it, I'm warning you.”

  “We need to go over there and warn her. She's only lives a few miles away,” Philip said.

  This surprised Jeremy. He had no idea she lived so close in proximity to his parents.

  “She'll only think I'm crazy, just like all of you. There's no point,” Jeremy said. However, some part of him made the idea seem plausible.

  “I'm sure she'd be happy to see you,” Phillip said as he plopped on the couch next to Jeremy.

  “What do you care? You don't know anything about me and her. Just drop it, seriously.”

  “I think we all need to get some rest,” Lorraine said. Bill placed his hand on her shoulder.

  Phillip persisted, “I have to be honest with you. Her husband isn't a great guy. In fact, he's not even a good guy. He's actually kind of a prick.”

  “Yeah, so? Kirby Stevens. I know who he is.”

  “You don't know the half of it. Linda told me that he hit her before.”

  “Phillip!” Lorraine said.

  “Now while your parents pack, we'll get Linda, rescue her from both the apocalypse and her abusive husband. Just think about it.”

  Jeremy leaned in closer, fist tightening, ready to sock Phillip face. “Just how stupid do you think I am?” he asked.

  “This is your last chance to make everything right with her,” Phillips said. While Jeremy was thinking, Phillip nodded to Bill who then nodded back.

  “If we do go there, for a minute or two, I'm not doing anything but warning her. Her marital problems are none of my business.”

  “Or course.”

  “And I don't want to hear a word from you the way there or the way back.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  “When I come back, I want you guys packed,” Jeremy said rising from the couch.

  Phillip got up and spoke into Bill’s ear, “High as a kite, just like I thought. Call the police while we're gone.” And then they were out the door.

  Chapter 3: Jeremy: Bad Call

  Jeremy continued his hike on foot through the outskirts of Charleston. Three miles ahead was a convenience store. He was looking forward to getting something cold to drink. “Maybe a beer,” he thought. But he knew having a beer would be foolish. It wasn't even noon yet. He would need to stay hydrated if he was going to make the long trek. So far, nothing out of the ordinary had happened. This was fleeting though. It was Wednesday, and there were still a few more days left in the week. He was on guard, but nothing seemed to indicate the end of anything. The sun was shining. A nice overcast of clouds lay overhead. Cars raced by every so often. It was peaceful for the time being. Jeremy wished he could have said the same thing about the night before:

  Jeremy was steady at the wheel with Phillip in the passenger seat. The plan was simple. Phillip would point out Linda's house. Jeremy would knock, and if no one answered, leave an anonymous letter. Then it was back in the truck, and back to the house. From there, Jeremy's parents would load-up and drive to Tennessee while Phillip watched the house. That was the way the plan was supposed to go.

  Phillip looked around the truck and noticed all the supplies in the back of the pickup. “Wow, you're really serious about this stuff, aren't you?” He asked. Jeremy stared ahead, unresponsive.

  “Where do I turn at the stop sign?” Jeremy asked.

  “Sorry, take a right,” Phillip said.

  Jeremy's headlights lit the dark road ahead. It was a cold night. The coldest yet this fall. They passed house after house of sleeping families, passed-out alcoholics, and unemployed loners.

  “Her house is just a few miles ahead,” Phillips said pointing.

  “Alright....Now go ahead and tell me how in the hell you know Linda,” Jeremy said.

  “Are you sure I'm allowed to speak?” Phillip asked.

  “Cut the bullshit. Just tell me.”

  Phillip smirked and took a deep breath. His exhaled breaths could be seen as vapor in the cool air of the truck. Jeremy didn't have heating. “You really don't remember me, do you?” he asked.

  Jeremy glanced between the road and Phillip. “I don't. Look, I'm sorry. Maybe I saw you around school or something, but that was forever ago.”

  “Okay, slow down. Her house is three houses down on the right.”

  Jeremy's truck slowed to a halt. He parked on the side of the road. Her one-story house was fenced-in by a small chain-link fence. A small child's bike and some other toys littered the front yard. The outside porch light was on. A large black cat looked out the window from inside.

  “This isn't a good idea,” Jeremy said, “We shouldn't be here.”

  “Relax, I'll go with you,” Phillip replied.

  “She's going to call the cops on us. This is insane.”

  “You've known her for what, fifteen years? I'm sure she'll let it slide. Just stick with the plan.”

  “Suck it, Phillip. I don't need your help, your concern or any of this bullshit. Wait in the truck.”

  Jeremy got out and walked towards the house. He opened the small fence gate and proceeded to the front door, asking himself: What am I doing? Why am I doing this?

  He approached the door and hesitated. In his pocket was a note. Reminiscent of the note he wrote years ago but never sent. This note just told her to leave the city with her family as soon as they woke up. His hand wavered alongside the pine door, right below the numbers 243. He knocked. It was a frail and weak knock, probably not even capable enough to be noticed by a person with wolf-like hearing. Jeremy took a deep breath and tried to knock louder. The glowing doorbell to the side beckoned him, but it was too big of a step that he was unwilling to make.

  Before Jeremy could proceed any further, the garage door opened revealing a man, seemingly about to take the trash to the curb. From inside the truck, Phillip watched. He couldn't believe his eyes. Jeremy was busted. At first, the man walking out from the garage didn't even notice him. Jeremy stood frozen, not sure what to do. As he dragged a la
rge waste receptacle to the end of the driveway, he noticed the truck.

  “Shit!” Phillip said ducking down.

  “Who is that?” the man asked. “Hey, you in the truck, what are you doing?” he called out.

  Jeremy had no choice but to intervene. “It's okay, he's with me, “Jeremy said from the front porch.

  The man spun around in a stunned panic. Jeremy suspected that the man was most likely Linda's husband. He knew of Kirby Stevens, but couldn't place a face with the name. Until now.

  “Whoa! Wow. Who the shit are you?” the man asked.

  “Easy there, fella. I'm a friend of Linda's, I—“

  “A friend? What do you mean by that?” the man shouted. Things did not seem to be going well.

  Jeremy stuck his hands inside his jacket pocket; the man panicked and started to run at him. In a flash, Jeremy went for the note and pulled it out. The man stopped.

  “See. I have this note to drop off. Nothing more, nothing less,” Jeremy said.

  The man studied Jeremy. Jeremy could see he was a stocky, and fit, but if it came down to it, Jeremy was sure he could take him. This was, after all, the man who Linda married. Jeremy had always wanted an opportunity to punch him in the face.

  “Who the hell are you? And I want a name!” the man said.

  “I'm Jeremy. You're Kirby, right?”

  “Jeremy who?”

  “Jeremy Rafelson.”

  Kirby's eyes widened. “Jeremy Rafelson? Are you serious? That dipshit ex-boyfriend of hers from back then? Wow. You're the last person I expected to see this morning.”

  “And he's going to be the last,” Phillip called out while approaching the men. Kirby was utterly confused, as his attention darted between Jeremy and Phillip.

  Phillip stood near Jeremy, and stared down Kirby.

  “Now here's your chance, Jeremy. Take that pistol you have in your jacket pocket and shoot him.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jeremy asked.

  “I told you that he hit Linda, go ahead and do it. For the both of us,” Phillip said.

  “No one is shooting anybody. Get your ass back in the truck,” Jeremy said.

  “I'll take both of you out in about five seconds if you don't get the hell off my property right now,” Kirby said.

  “I came here to talk to Linda, that's all. I didn't want any trouble,” Jeremy said.

  “Well, you got trouble, son,” Kirby said, “Whether you want it or not.”

  “Shoot him!” Phillip yelled.

  Suddenly the inside lights to the house came on. The noise had awoken someone.

  “Shut up, Phillip!” Jeremy yelled back.

  “I'm going to count to five,” Kirby said.

  “Do it!” Phillip shouted.

  Jeremy pulled his pistol out from his jacket pocket and waved it in the air at both Phillip and Kirby.

  “Both of you shut the hell up, right now.”

  Kirby stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes never wavered from the pistol. Phillip silenced and backed away. Pointing the gun between both of them, Jeremy continued, “I don't have a lot of time here. I came over to warn Linda about a possible terrorist attack happening tomorrow, right here in Pittsburgh. Just ask her, I was in the military and just got a tipped-off.”

  Kirby had subdued. “Okay, man. I hear you. Just put the gun away.”

  Phillip leaned over to Jeremy. “If you don't shoot him, I will.”

  Jeremy flashed the pistol at Phillip, “If you don't shut your mouth and go back to the truck, I'll shoot you myself, right here and now.”

  Phillip looked to Kirby, “Why don't you tell him how you beat your wife? How you push her around and all of that. Go ahead, enlighten the man.”

  “What are you taking about? I've never laid a hand on my wife. And do I know you?” Kirby asked.

  “Probably not. But I know you. And I know you're wife. Very well.” Phillip.

  “What's that supposed to mean,” Kirby said approaching Phillip ready to strike.

  Jeremy held his pistol out, aimed at Kirby. “That's far enough!” he shouted.

  “We're just friends, she comes into the orthodontist office where I work. But I knew her before either of you pricks. She was supposed to be mine.”

  Jeremy and Kirby looked at each other, clearly shaken by the situation.

  “But I told myself I would wait. I would wait until it ended with you,” Phillip said pointing at Jeremy, “But then you came along,” he said pointing at Kirby, “ruining my chances. Jeremy, what are you waiting for? Shoot him!”

  Jeremy had had enough. With one quick swoop of his right hand, he pistol whipped Phillip in the face, knocking him out cold. He fell to the ground immediately. Silence followed, all but the barking of dogs from a distance. Kirby stood frozen, not making a sound. Jeremy aimed the gun down at Phillip, staring at his sleeping body.

  “Don't do it, man,” Kirby pleaded, “I don't need this shit on my property.”

  Jeremy felt the unmistakable power to take another man’s life. It especially helped because he didn't particularly care for Phillip. But something in him felt pity for the man. Phillip's ramblings had made little sense, but apparently he loved Linda too.

  “Just put the gun, down. You don't have to do this,” Kirby continued.

  Jeremy didn't waver. He caressed the trigger with his index finger. Out of the corner of his eye stood a figure on the porch. It seemed to have come out of nowhere. Jeremy jerked his head to the side, lowering the pistol. He could see the shape of a woman wearing a bathrobe. It was Linda. Her hair was straight and to her shoulders, a little longer than before.

  She called from the porch, “What's going on out here?”

  “Nothing, baby. Everything's fine,” Kirby answered.

  “Who's out there with you?” she asked.

  “Just some people passing by. Just go back in the house,” Kirby said.

  Jeremy had the gun lowered to his side now. He didn't trust Kirby, so he kept the pistol out. “It's me, Linda,” he said. “It's Jeremy.”

  Silence followed, and then Linda spoke. “Jeremy?” She walked down the steps of her front porch and into the yard towards him. “Jeremy? What—what are you doing here? Why are you—?”

  The shine of the pistol gleamed in her eye. The scene came into focus. On the ground was a man. Over him stood Jeremy with the pistol. Across from Jeremy was her husband with a worried look plastered on his face. “Oh my God,” Linda said covering her mouth. “What have you done?”

  Jeremy followed her eyes to his pistol. He had to admit that the situation didn't look good.

  “I'm not here to hurt you or anyone. This whole thing has been one big misunderstanding,” Jeremy said.

  “Then let us go, man. Just let us go,” Kirby said.

  “I'm going to, okay? Let me explain. Phillip here lives with my parents.”

  Linda looked down at the unconscious man. “Phillip? Is that Phillip Greene? Oh no.......what happened to him?”

  “You know this guy?” Kirby asked, pointing to the slumbering, injured man.

  “He's an old friend from high school, I ran into him the other day, I don't—“Linda glared at Jeremy. “Tell me what the hell is going on...now!” she demanded.

  “I'm trying to!” Jeremy shouted. “I didn't come over here to cause any trouble. And I know you're going to think I'm crazy, but I came over to warn you. You and your family. To warn you about a terrorist attack that's supposed to happen tomorrow. The city isn't safe. I'm not staying here, and you shouldn't stay here either.”

  Linda and Kirby said nothing. They looked at each other, as if speaking telepathically.

  Jeremy continued, “I went to my parents’ house to warn them of the same thing. The very same thing. When I got there Phillip told me about you. I just felt—I felt that with all we'd been through—”

  After a long pause, Linda spoke, “Well, thank you, Jeremy. Thank you. We appreciate you coming over here to warn us. Now I think we she call a
n ambulance for your friend.”

  “He's not my friend,” Jeremy said. He detected a certain patronization in Linda's voice that he didn't appreciate. “And don't talk to me like I'm crazy, Linda. If anyone would just listen to me for two seconds they'd be thanking me tomorrow, you can believe that.”

  “Hey man, we believe you. We really do,” Kirby said.

  Jeremy studied them both carefully. He began to realize that they were going to agree with everything he said anyway. They feared him. This was a thought that made him feel both powerful and sick. Sick mainly because in Linda's eyes, he was now a crazy man.

  “Let us call an ambulance, please,” Linda said.

  “Enough!” Jeremy shouted. The couple froze.

  Jeremy dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out the letter to Linda. “This is not a joke. You need to listen to me. There is not much time, just here,” Jeremy walked to Linda holding the letter, “Take this letter, it explains everything. Once I leave, call an ambulance.”

  “You're not leaving him here are you?” Kirby asked.

  “Kirby, stop it,” Linda said.

  Linda took the letter from Jeremy. She barely held it in her hands. To Jeremy, this was an indication that everything she did was forced.

  “I'm going now,” Jeremy said. “I—I hope everything works out and that you guys stay safe. I really do.” He walked away, and then turned one last time to Linda, “You look great, by the way.”

  “Thanks,” Linda said. No other words followed.

  “Take care,” Jeremy said once he got to his truck.

  “You too,” she said.

  Jeremy got into the driver's seat and started the truck. He looked over to the couple. They were clearly waiting for him to leave to make a move. His truck roared down the street. He would have to turn around at some point to get back to his parents’ place, but was currently in a daze. The entire experience had left him feeling empty and shaken up. Almost like it should have never happened. His decision to go to Linda's could easily be defined as foolish.