No End (Post Apocalypse Stock Market, Book 1) Read online

  Clint rubbed his shoulder. ‘I’m sure she’s in a good place.’

  Pete let out a long sigh. ‘Yeah…that’s what I keep telling myself.’ He pressed his lips, ‘doesn’t make it easier though.’

  ‘Ok enough sad stories for one day.’ Toad said tapping the fence with his cane. ‘Who’s going through first?’

  (10)

  Wind swept leaves under cars; on a highway littered with molded steel. It was a long stretch of road many families once favored. It was the road that took them to new places, exciting adventures, and different cultures. Now, it was a silent graveyard; where empty cars’ kissed each other bumper to bumper.

  ‘It’s gonna be tight squeeze.’ Toad said.

  ‘At least we can snake our way through,’ Clint said. He watched Pete walk around a car as if he was contemplating breaking in. ‘See anything?’

  ‘Just looking, you never know what you can find.’ He tapped the side of his head. ‘Living on streets all your life makes you an expert in survival – you know – turning shit into gold.’ He grunted as he climbed in through the windscreen. He whistled while rummaging.

  ‘Pete get out of that car.’ Toad said. ‘You’re just wasting valuable time.’

  ‘So just start walking.’ He broke something off, ‘even if you get a five year head start you know I’ll catch you up.’

  Toad huffed past the first car. Clint chuckled; he couldn’t remember the last time he laughed. He didn’t know what to make of his two companions but they sure turned boredom into drama.

  He was surprised at how fast Toad walked. He didn’t kid around when he said he wasn’t going to be a liability. Clint squeezed through two cars and groaned.

  ‘You ok back there?’ Toad asked. He saw Clint rubbing his belly. ‘How’s your wound?’

  ‘It’s fine thank you.’ It was hurting. ‘So you were a doctor huh?’

  ‘That’s right, thirty-five years.’ He said with chin up.

  ‘Wow ok. That’s a long time.’

  He sighed, ‘yes it is.’

  ‘Hey I want to thank you again for saving my life.’

  Toad pointed at the floor, ‘careful rusted nails.’ He swept a few with his cane. ‘You are welcome. You did me a favor though, the only reason I saved your life was because I itched for practice.’

  Clint smiled. He didn’t know if he was joking or being serious. ‘So how come Pete doesn’t stay with you?’

  He peered into the distance. ‘Speaking of that rat I wonder where he is.’ He continued walking. ‘Me and Pete are like, what a fish is to an owl; in other words we don’t live in the same habitat, we don’t eat the same food, we don’t breathe the same air, and apparently, we don’t shit in the same place.’

  ‘You kicked him out?’

  ‘No of course not. I wouldn’t do that to family. He likes…’ he shook his head. ‘He says he likes the outdoors, by outdoors he means living in dumpsters.’

  ‘So he wants to be homeless?’

  ‘Apparently it’s the Hollywood lifestyle of our era. Maybe I should give it a try, but somehow I doubt I’ll approve. I prefer my mattress.’

  Hey guys wait up. A voice yelled.

  Toad glanced and shook his head. ‘If you want to know why I sleep well at night have a look.’

  Pete came jumping over cars like he was doing hurdles. He had a gas mask on; his laughter under it sounded like pigs’ snorting.

  Clint felt like laughing. And then he felt like puking. Because he remembered…

  (11)

  The gas mask.

  ‘Dad I’m scared.’

  ‘I know sweetie but just just keep your head down.’

  Her eyes were red with fear and wet with tears. Her head rose despite her father’s warning. It shot back down. ‘Why are they all wearing that mask dad? Why are–’

  A car exploded in the distance; the vibration bobbed the car. Milly stretched her arm through the slit of the seats and grabbed her father’s hand. He looked up through the window; unaware of how wet her hand was.

  ‘What’re they doing?’ She shook his hand, ‘tell me.’

  ‘I…don’t know.’ He did know. The swarm of green masks were checking cars one by one. He was trying to figure out what they were doing. And why he felt so afraid just by looking at them. He glanced behind and saw the highway blocked with others just like him: cars wedged, faces peeking from windows. The car behind them had a big family. Clint saw at least four heads’ peeking from the backseat; curious to what was approaching – their father waving them down – the mother holding/cradling something. A baby.

  Clint felt his hand shake. When he looked he saw that it wasn’t him. It was her. He squeezed her hand. ‘Don’t worry we’ll be just–’

  Another car exploded. The car bobbed – but something else came with the shockwave. Pleading screams. It made the hair on Clint’s arm stand tall. If explosions and screams weren’t enough he heard a weird sound: slurping. He told her to stay down. This time he wasn’t shy at looking up. A few cars down, he saw what the slurping sound was. They were torching cars with families locked inside. He watched a couple trying to get out. It was impossible. The flames licked both sides until the car exploded.

  ‘What do you see?’ Milly asked. She wiped wet hair from her forehead.

  ‘It’s nothing. Just explosions.’ Clint and the father behind locked eyes. The only thing Clint saw was fear; a sickening expression that said it all. ‘Milly, listen to me ok. Look out your window. You see the trees?’

  ‘Y-yes.’

  ‘When I say go. You are going to climb out and run for it.’

  She narrowed her eyes, ‘what about you?’

  ‘I’ll be right behind you.’

  ‘Promi–’

  The smell of smoke made her stop mid-sentence, and as if on cue, gray mist began seeping through the window. ‘Come with me–’

  He shook her hand. ‘Listen to me. Do you understand me? When I say go you go.’

  She coughed and burst out with fresh tears. ‘No you’re coming with–’

  ‘Milly! I said–’ he punched the seat; it startled her ‘–now go!’

  ‘I can’t dad I can’t–’

  He ripped his hand from hers and burst through the door. He didn’t look behind because he knew they were near. He ran to her side and opened the door. ‘Come let’s go.’

  She grabbed his hand. When she was out there was a second where she stood still. Her mouth hung open when she looked behind. She saw families’ burn. She saw fiery hands’ clapping windows. A green mask looked at her and pointed.

  Clint shoved her away. ‘Run!’

  She left a trail of tears while coughing.

  Clint waved his hands at the green men and shouted. They didn’t like it. They pointed their guns and hissed flames; as if saying you’re next. A few of them dropped their gear and chased.

  He ran as fast as he could.

  (12)

  ‘…so that’s where I found her.’

  ‘You found her hiding in the forest?’ Toad asked.

  ‘Yes, behind a bush, shaking like a wet leaf.’

  ‘Man,’ Pete said. ‘I know the army started killing people, but torching them, damn.’

  Clint sighed. ‘I try to forget about it…but some nights, I just, wake up. I’ll never forget that guy’s eyes. He feared for his family, that’s all I saw. I don’t think they survived. I mean, how could you? He had a family with him. They couldn’t run.’

  ‘The world is different now, that’s for sure.’ Toad said. He looked up at the amber sky. ‘It’ll be dark soon, we ought to make camp.’

  ‘We can go through there,’ Pete pointed at trees. ‘I know of a place.’

  ‘I was thinking here,’ he doodled with his cane.

  ‘What on the road?’ Clint asked.

  ‘Not like they’re in use. We’re in the middle of nowhere.’ He pointed his cane. ‘We have a few cars surrounding us, should protect us against any wind.’

  ‘Yeah I
don’t know Toad.’ Pete said. ‘Think you’ve been stuck in that house for too long.’ He scratched his wrist, ‘don’t take it the wrong way – I just think your survival knowledge is a bit…’

  ‘Yes I do apologize. I forgot we had a survival expert in the midst of us; the man that knows a good bin from a bad bin.’

  ‘That’s mean, after you know the pain I went through.’

  ‘Jessie’s been dead for five years Pete! You can’t bring that up each–’

  Pete crossed his arms and pouted at the sky. ‘Well tell that to my heart.’

  ‘C’mon guys,’ Clint said. ‘Let’s just go Pete’s way.’

  ‘Yes Pete. Lead the–’ he watched him walk away with a smile. ‘I think I’m going to kill him Clint.’

  ‘Come on.’ He patted his shoulder.

  Leaves rustled; welcoming them inside. The branches above formed a crisscross canopy; blocking most light from entering. Golden-brown rays seeped through the leaves. It made the forest feel magical, but it also made shadows come alive.

  ‘I’ve lost all taste for this.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Clint asked.

  ‘The woodland. I don’t like it.’ He swept a few leaves and watched insects run away. ‘It reminds me of the good. I’d rather stick to focusing on what is.’

  Clint thinks he knows where this is was going. He feels the same. Sometimes it’s better to forget about the good; because being reminded of what was once good can be painful. He observed his surroundings and nodded. The forest was the only place untainted from destruction.

  ‘I know what you’re trying to say.’

  ‘I used to go for walks, a long, long time ago. Especially before a big operation. The forest, the stillness, it always had a soothing effect on me.’

  ‘Hey guys! Over here.’

  Toad waved him away, ‘we coming hold on.’ He narrowed his eyes at Clint; so much that every muscle in face tightened. ‘You know, sometimes I think Mother Nature herself is toying with us. No.’ He put a finger on his mouth. ‘Not toying. Torturing us. Yes torturing. Beauty here,’ he waved his cane at a tree, ‘while outside it’s a terrorist’s paradise.’

  Clint sighed. ‘I know, but what is done is done, nothing we can about it now.’

  He grunted. ‘Come, don’t mind my rambling, we have a more important quest to focus on.’

  Later that night while the two of them snored and cuddled like two old lovers, Clint stared up at the starless sky. His mind went on autopilot; like it always did during these hours. Except, now, he wasn’t staring at the corner of the roof – but dark skies. It felt peaceful out in the forest: the rustling of the leaves, insects walking around, and a queer feeling that everything was fine. Maybe Toad was right. Deep down, it did start to hurt.

  (13)

  Cars weren’t kissing bumper to bumper anymore; the stretch ahead only had a few stranded metal. A deer in the distance stumbled out from the trees and onto the road. Its fur was a milky brown with a few white dots. Its small black nose – still wet from the morning – sniffed the rusted metal. It walked around the skeleton of the car. Its little eyes curious to what it was.

  ‘Isn’t she beautiful?’ Toad said. ‘A little thing like that, I wonder where her mother is.’

  As if on cue, a head popped from the bush. This one a little bigger than the one on the road. It looked around for any danger and walked up to the car.

  ‘Why’s she nudging the kid?’ Pete asked wiping his eyes.

  Toad looked at him with approval: a smart question, none of that childish behavior. ‘She is teaching her how to walk.’

  ‘But she’s walking.’

  He scratched his chin. ‘Yes that’s right Pete.’

  ‘The little one looks tired. I feel tired.’ He kicked a rock. ‘Why did we get up so–’

  ‘Shh, don’t scare them away.’

  The mother looked up and then back down; satisfied that there was no danger.

  ‘So how long until we get there?’ Clint asked.

  ‘We are not that far away.’ He pointed at the trees. ‘Just over–’

  The quiet morning made the sound worse. It sounded like thunder. The baby deer fell to the ground with a hole in its stomach. The mother (startled) jumped away and stopped; it didn’t want to leave her. Her head bopped – trying to calculate where the danger was coming from when thunder clapped again. Both deer lay in a pool of their own blood.

  Callous laughter erupted. An engine roared. Its lights shone through the trees.

  ‘What the fuck,’ Pete whispered as they all huddled behind steel. ‘That isn’t a car is it?’

  ‘It’s been years since I’ve seen a working one.’ Toad murmured.

  ‘Keep your heads down,’ Clint said as he watched the Jeep cough up onto the road. Its body had no color; only scratches. The wheels wobbled as if they were going to break off. Three men stood at the back with rifles. The man driving the car showed all his teeth: a millionaire’s grin. The car croaked forward, teetering between stalling and speeding.

  One of them smacked the roof with his rifle. ‘Keep her steady Fred just like the one the other night!’ All of them laughed.

  ‘Shit I think they coming this way,’ Pete said pulling his hair.

  ‘Shut it,’ Toad said. ‘Don’t make any–’

  They fired rounds into the air. Birds went flying out of trees. Their laughter poisoned the serene atmosphere. The Jeep came to a halt. Two of them jumped off and approached the bloody mess.

  ‘Look! I got the big fucker in the head – just missed the eyes. Dammit.’

  ‘Benjamin here got the lil’ one right in the stomach. Load ‘em up.’

  Clint waved them down. They all nestled against each other. They waited for them to be gone. They could hear the deer being dragged.

  ‘What if they see us?’ Pete held his mouth.

  ‘Just…be quiet.’

  For a second, Clint pondered why they were hiding. Was it because of the way they were acting? Maybe they were friendly folk, hunting food for their families.

  ‘I’m going to have a look.’ Pete said.

  Toad shot him a look that said: if-you-do-that-I’ll-knock-you-out-with-my-cane.

  Everything went quiet. The talking disappeared. The deer dragging disappeared. The car engine was off. No banter. It made Clint want to look. Why were they so quiet? He bit his lower lip and really felt like looking. A part of him told him to stay put. He didn’t want to risk anything.

  A few minutes later, Clint, Toad, and Pete, looked at each other. They all frowned, thinking the same thing: why is it so quiet? Toad volunteered to peek. He laid down his cane, turned onto his stomach, and looked. His head barely skimmed the top when blood gushed all over Pete and Clint. Pete screamed. Clint’s mouth hung open. Toad’s body slithered down – his head thumped the floor.

  ‘Bull’s eye headshot motherfucker!’ The man yelled. They laughed. The engine came back on.

  (14)

  Clint didn’t know what was going on. Everything around him was a hazy mirror. The only thing crystal clear was the dead body in front of him. Toad’s body. Blood trickled through the hole in his head. He lay on his cane like it was a pillow; one eye open the other closed. Pete sat in a fetus position pulling his hair; horrified, unable to accept what just happened.

  An engine roared next to them and switched off. People jumped off. They smacked Pete on the head with the butt of the gun and dragged Clint away.

  Clint could hear laughter. He felt hands dragging him away somewhere; he didn’t know where, he felt too dazed. He saw cement beneath his feet. He saw Pete in his peripheral. And then the thought occurred to him: he was going to die. He laughed inside his head, he was going to die.

  ‘Looks like we got ourselves here two meat bones.’

  ‘This one here has a bandage on him.’

  ‘Look at his face – poke his bandage – wake him up.’

  A searing pain ran from Clint’s stomach to his neck. His body’s natural rea
ction was to contract – but they held him straight. He cried. They laughed.

  ‘Where should we put ‘em?’

  ‘Let’s see.’

  Clint saw everything play in slow motion again: how Toad rolled onto his stomach, how he laid his cane against the steel, how he nodded at him before he…how the blood squirted from the back of his head–

  ‘Go put them two over there.’

  A part of Clint told him to wake up. There was no time to give up. He thought of Milly; this gave him some strength to look up at their faces. He felt his bandage leak.

  ‘So what’s your name boy?’ Pete held his eyes as if everything would disappear if he did. ‘I asked you a–’ he slapped him like a woman ‘–question. Your name?’

  ‘Look at his hair. He’s like a copy of Jesus’ brother or sumthin’.’ They snorted. ‘That one…he I don’t know. He looks a bit dazzled. Maybe we should kick his ass.’

  ‘Nah, let’s deal with this one first.’

  Clint and Pete were on their knees. The four men surrounded them like a schoolyard bully fight. Clint didn’t look at Pete directly – but he could see him in his peripheral. He felt sorry for him. His whole body trembled.

  ‘Now I’m going to ask you one more time.’ The man said grinning. He cocked the gun. ‘What is your–’

  ‘His name is Pete.’ Clint said.

  ‘Oh the injured man speaks. What are you three – oh sorry – I mean two doing out here?’

  Pete lunged at the man and scratched his face.

  Clint knew that was a bad mistake, and he was right.

  ‘The fucker scratched me!’ He held his watery cheek. ‘Hold him down.’

  The three of them held Pete down. He tried to resist but it was futile.

  ‘How do you want to die today my friend?’ He pointed the rifle at his head.

  ‘You killed my un-cle.’ Tears spilled down his face.

  ‘Y-y-you killed my uncle.’ He mimicked. ‘You didn’t answer my question. How do you want to die?’