It was the end of the world...the fucking end of the world. The honest to goodness end of the world. How many stupid fucking movies had Emily watched about this shit? How many times had she laughed at the crazy story lines about asteroids, super volcanos and aliens. But it took a far sight less than that to end the world, society as we knew it. It was the same old thing...hubris, greed, man's own flaws did him in.
A fire sale as the stupid movies called it...they did not do justice to the damage that a few lines of zeros and ones, code, viruses could reek in this technological world. It had taken only hours to set us back from the species that went to the moon and built buildings to reach the heavens...to the base animals set upon survival that we all were.
When the banks failed and you could not get your money...if you had it. When planes fell out of the sky and trains and cars collided randomly because there was no one controlling them anymore. When the world of instant news and connection, hundreds of friends you had never met and constant barrage of pings and dings to alert you to the latest message died to silence. Silence that few people were comfortable in. When power and phones and Internet simply ceased to work. When walking and bicycles became the only reliable means of transportation. Well, the world was not a pretty place.
Emily had been stuck in the city when it hit. But she had watched enough of those damned movies to know that was no place to be. Besides her mom and step-father had a nice rural place a couple hundred miles away. But a couple hundred miles away might as well be the moon when you have to walk...in the middle of winter no less.
What she would have given then for her old bicycle or one of her daddy's shot guns? But she had neither. All she had was her wits, common sense and an unquenchable desire to live. That would have to be enough, she thought as she began to pack.
No need to carry bottle water with all that snow. It would just weigh her down, slow her progress. She had a box of energy bars for the gym at the back of the cupboard. That was a definite must. As were the small pot, a big knife, a couple bags of beans and noodles and all the matches and lighters she could find.
She thanked her lucky stars for the lessons that her step-father or daddy as she had long since started to think of the man had taught her about hunting, fishing and camping. At least she stood half a chance in this world turned on its head. She picked her warmest clothes...and layered those. Then she packed a spare set, but just one as she was mindful that she would have to carry everything herself.
She searched in the back of her closet for the sleeping bag and small dome tent had bought for the festival a couple years back. She had thought about giving those to the second hand shop dozens of times but now she was glad she had not. She smiled as she pulled out the pocket knife that her parents had given her for her thirteenth birthday. Her dad had that serious look on his face when he told her, "We think you are old enough for this now. But you have to take care of it and use it wisely...just like love and life."
She nodded and sighed as the first rays of dawn begin to filter through the drawn curtains. Unlike others in the city, she was not going to loot and stick around trying to fight for what few resources remained. Or wait helplessly in her apartment for some miracle from the government. If they could not manage to save a few thousand people in New Orleans, she sure as hell did not think they could tackle a worldwide collapse like this. No, she was out of here.
"I'm going home, Mama and Daddy, " she whispered as she tore open the bag of cat food for her beloved tabby. She opened the window so she could give it what chance it had. She could only hope that like her its natural survival instincts kicked in and kept it from becoming prey to the empty stomachs of men once the food began to run out.
***
Jordan fought through the thongs of people outside the police station. He had come here thinking that his military skills might prove useful to help re-establish order in the city that had been his home all his life...except for those lost years where he had gone where and when the Marines sent him. But the sad truth was...there was no help coming...and no order to be found. Well, not the kind worth having anyway.
He had just finished speaking with the local police precinct captain. The outlook was bleak. The news was not good, what little of the accurate kind they could get anyway. Short wave radio was all that worked...then only the battery or hand crank operated kind. And figuring out the source of the information was next to impossible. Was it terrorism? Foreign or domestic? Conspiracy theories too abounded.
To make matters worse, the police, who had battled inner city gangs to an uncomfortable truce when there was rules, laws and order to be had, were outnumbered and out gunned. They were losing the streets of the city block by block, neighborhood by neighborhood as these criminals took control and established a new order...of their making, with them as kings and turf wars unlike anything anyone could imagine.
The man had been honest. As much as he would like to accept Jordan's help it was a death sentence. The man himself stayed only because of his oath to protect and defend. But he was on the verge of calling his own men together, placing the situation squarely before them, and releasing those who wanted or needed to get back to their families. Only he and a few volunteers would stay and do what little they could...and it was little. Too little to be worth his life.
Jordan had nodded as he felt the weight of this man's command. He knew that burden, knowing that you are sending good men to their deaths always was a heavy load to bear. He shook the man's hand and wished him the best as he left the building into the early morning sunshine glaring off the snow. How could the day be so beautiful when all hell was breaking out? That irony never failed to make him wonder what perverse power controlled this fucked up world. Cause it sure as hell was not good men like the him and the captain.
What now he asked himself? What now? Did he just go back to his tiny run down apartment and hold up? His own code prevented him from joining those who looted and took what they wanted. Some stupid, naïve part of him considered for a moment going underground...becoming a super hero avenging the innocent like in a comic book. But he was just one man...if the police could not stop it all, how could he?
