Liam Hall
Tuesday, April 19th, 2022 (Four weeks after the Shutdown)
Holy… sh— He gasped for air. Sweat stung his eyes as he lay spread eagle on the cement floor.
It had been a grueling task but after an entire day spent moving the metal shelves bit by bit so they wouldn’t make noise, he finally finished.
Ignoring the right half of the store where the dead animals once were, he split the main section into three parts.
Half of it would be open space and the remaining half was split between his new sleeping quarters where he kept the chocolate boxes close by, and a small workshop that he knew would become useful in the future.
The 9 shelves the store had were pushed against the front and back walls, with one being used as a divider to corner off his room. Cardboard boxes from the back room had been flattened to be used as his mattress. He would likely starve in the coming days but for the moment he had a new place to call home.
One with a large pile of dead rodents outside… oh and the cat. Can’t forget about the dead cat.
Liam set a mental reminder to scout the surroundings for more supplies and information. Pushing himself off the ground, he stretched out his muscles and hobbled over to his sleeping area where he promptly collapsed in a heap.
“Oh, and another reminder for future me," he mumbled to no one in particular. "Don’t push heavy shit while recovering.”
***
Peeling his face off the flattened cardboard boxes, he grumbled about his bliss being interrupted.
For some reason, the Creature, the shadowy monster that had haunted his dreams for the past month had vanished ever since Liam’s visit to the underground cellar, and in its absence sleeping was finally relaxing again.
So to be woken when it was still pitch black outside… he wasn’t a happy camper.
Wiping the drool off his face as he wondered what woke him up, a sudden banging from the front answered him.
Alert, he grabbed the knife Private Morales had given him and cautiously approached the windows.
The glass doors shook in their frames as someone outside vigorously pulled them again.
Drawing the blade free of its sheath, he made his way over to the side window and peeked through the wooden boards. A shower of moonlight revealed two people frantically moving from shop to shop.
The one in front of him was a girl about his age holding a plastic shopping bag in one hand and the other was gripping the store's handle, the whites of her knuckles showing as she tightened her grip.
“Nina, get over here!” a hoarse voice hissed from across the street.
In the distance, a loud revving drew both of their attention. No freaking way… Is that a motorcycle?
Flustered, Nina let go of the handle and ran over to where her colleague was hiding. The moment her foot got over the shattered window pane, headlights lit up the street. A group of 5 motorcycles rolled into the entrance of the road.
How do those even exist? I thought the Blackout wiped vehicles out.
Their leader’s voice came as a whisper, rumbling through the air like an ominous threat. “Spread out and find them. I want them like yesterday.”
Four of the men moved to follow his orders, combing the abandoned stores with their guns and flashlights. The crunching of glass grew closer to Liam’s store.
“They’re not here,” a familiar voice called out.
Chayton.
“We heard them stop here. Keep looking. They couldn’t have gotten far,” the man by the motorcycles ordered. Stepping in front of the headlights, his shadow stretched across the street.
A flashlight pointed towards Liam and he ducked out of view, taking refuge behind one of the metal shelves he'd moved against the window. Awaiting any indication that they’d spotted him, the crunching of glass continued without interruption.
The gunmen were still creeping towards his store. Hesitant to move and potentially cause a disturbance, he stretched out onto the floor and prayed that he was invisible.
“Routledge, we found someone!”
Heart in his throat he twisted his head, expecting a grizzly face to be staring at him through the windows.
But he wasn’t the one who had been caught.
Across the street, the two drifters had been dragged out onto the street at gunpoint. Despite the situation, Liam couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief at their capture. As long as they didn’t know he existed, that was one more day he could survive in peace.
Barking laughter broke through the stillness of the night.
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“Is this it? You risked detention for… a pack of rice and canned goods. How long did you think you would last with just this?”
Shaking his head in disbelief, Routledge paused for a moment, considering the plastic bag in his hands.
“Chayton, how much do we record as being stolen?”
At the squad leader’s request, the large man took off his backpack and pulled out what appeared to be a clipboard. “Hard to say. Reckon it was a shit ton more than that.”
Flipping a few pages, Chayton cleared his throat and began reciting it aloud in his overly gruff tone, “One pack of rice, beans, chips, gum, cola, water, trail mix, salted sunflower seeds.”
Perking up at the mention of more food, Liam stood back up, trying to get a clear view of the confrontation beyond the row of cars parked in front of the building.
Slightly smaller than Chayton who stood attentively at his side, all Liam could make out of the one they called Routledge was a large red motorcycle jacket that squeezed his muscular frame.
At his feet, the two drifters were bound and looking up at him with bloodless faces. They’re terrified of him. Nothing stood out about the man, yet Liam couldn’t deny there was an air of superiority that he carried himself with.
Every step and word seemed to be measured and calculated, all single-mindedly directed towards one goal.
Routledge nudged the man bound at his feet. “So, where is the rest of it? Mmmh? You seem to be a little light.”
The drifters remained tight-lipped.
Rubbing the back of his hair, he turned his back to his men and stepped out onto the street.
Deep set lines covered his face, marring his otherwise youthful appearance. Shadows created by the restricted lighting shrouded his expression, but as his lips curled back, for a fleeting second Liam caught sight of the demon within.
His eyes danced with a maniacal energy as turned around and whipped out his gun, all in one smooth motion.
Turning off the safety he pinned the bound man with his knee, causing him to cry out in alarm.
Digging the barrel of his gun deeper into the man’s temple, he hissed, “I don’t want to do this so don’t give me an excuse to do so. You don't want to lose a limb, right?"
The captured man was frozen in fear.
"Oh for fuck’s s— I said you don't want to lose a limb, right?"
The man shook his head, eyes glued to the gun.
"Good. Cooperate and both of you will be fine, I promise you. Scout’s honor.”
The girl who had been silently kneeling on the floor, warily looked up at the news. Turning towards her partner who was fervently nodding, she croaked out, “We threw it into a shop on the corner of Saugen and Maitland when we heard you guys comin'.”
Getting up off the man who broke out into a violent coughing fit, Liam, who was practically pressing his ear to the window at this point, heard Routledge chuckle.
“See, shit’s that easy. That’s all you had to say. There was no need for unpleasantries.”
BANG!
The bound man slumped back to the pavement, his body twitching before finally giving out.
Flinching back in disbelief, Liam stared wide-eyed as Routledge nodded to one of his men who promptly grabbed the girl as they made their way back to the bikes.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT, ROUTLEDGE? You could've just gagged him or exiled him! We’re not murderers!" the man holding the female hostage protested, struggling to restrain the girl as her body racked with hysterical sobs.
Turning around, Routledge's head furrowed in vexation. Unholstering his gun, he lazily waved it in his face.
“And yet somehow I just did. Think about it. If we exiled someone every time they shoplifted or stole, we'd be looking at a growing number of people who could band together and be a threat. This way, it sends a message to the rest to stay in line.”
"You guys can't be okay with this?!" he continued, undeterred. Looking at the other members for support, they turned away, unable to make eye contact. Only Chayton glared at him with a pointed look.
“Well, there you have it George. Everyone else understands the way things work. For your own good, I suggest you follow along unless you want to go back to your old job," Routledge replied, glaring at the other man.
George’s spine went rigid and no other words escaped his lips.
“I'm joking, man!” Routledge guffawed, heartily slapping George on his back. “Loosen up a bit!”
Turning away, Routledge looked down at the girl George was holding, who still was kicking and screaming against his arms.
“How did that whole lesson go over your head? You fight against us, you die. Simple. You're alive because you took the initiative and told us. That's what we need right now, people who are willing to do what's necessary to survive. People who listen. Please, for your own sake, don't cause more of a scene.”
Glancing up at Chayton, who nodded in acknowledgment, the massive mountain of a man lumbered back to the fallen body and chucked it into a nearby shop.
Wiping the blood from his hands on his cargo shorts, Chayton asked, “So now we get the bag?”
“No, the bag can wait. It's too dark now either way. I don't want to get caught off guard by stragglers or other parties. We have her,” Routledge said, throwing the girl a thoughtful look. “We'll grab it tomorrow.”
Liam watched as they dumped the girl across their motorcycle like she was a sack of flour, and drove off, returning the shops into the fold of the night. Silence was reinstated like no blood had been shed.
Why do they have bikes?
Even with what happened, the most unnatural thing wasn't the harrowing execution but the existence of the vehicles.
When the Blackout first happened, his parents lost their lives because he couldn't get there in time. All because his car wouldn't start forcing him to lose time running across the city.
So how the hell are those any different? If they still work… does that mean there’s nothing electronic inside of them? Scratching his head, he thought about it.
Why is this so confusing? Headlamps work but phones don’t. Why? And if the military’s SATCOM radios don’t work either, does it have something to do with radio waves? So to summarize, electronic devices don't work, the power grid is down, no freakin' walkie-talkies. And only vehicles that don't have any electronic components in them can work. No wonder the military is overwhelmed.
Rumors that this was a premeditated attack by another country or even aliens had been part of a growing conspiracy in the neighborhood until it had been rebutted by the military.
Yet to Liam, the nightmares of the Creature and demon under the temple had become constant reminders that there was something out there — waiting… watching.
Now that even they had disappeared, it felt like the calm before the storm.
Something was about to happen.