The Dark Days: The Others - Episode 3 Read online

  The Dark Days

  The Others

  Episode 3

  by

  Ginger Gelsheimer and Taylor Anderson

  © 2013 Ginger Gelsheimer and Taylor Anderson

  Published by GK Publishing

  All Rights Reserved

  License Notes

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  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, or any similarity of events depicted herein to real life incidents, are purely coincidental.

  GK Publishing owns all publishing rights to the content contained herein. Copyright remains solely with the author. If you find this content being offered freely on the Internet somewhere other than an authorized vendor website, then this book has been pirated. In such instances, please report the theft to GK Publishing at [email protected].

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  From the Author

  Chapter 1

  It’s been a week since Dorian, the self-claimed dictator of the survival shelter, took Edgar, Ben and me prisoner after we accidentally stumbled upon nuclear warheads. Within an hour of being captured, Elsie and Masaru were thrown into the cell with us. Even though they are prisoners now, I am relieved that we are all together, and I don’t have to worry what might be happening to them. I’ve only known them since the ‘end of the world,’ but they are my best friends, my only friends.

  Should I be terrified that the Denver airport is a hidden plant for nuclear weapons, or does it even matter now? They are death icons from the past. For all we know, the only survivors on Earth are living in this Godforsaken airport, but Dorian evidently cares about the weapons since he has thrown us in this cell.

  With nothing to do but stare at stone walls, our minds run wild. Ben is pacing. I can tell he is calculating something in his head, and it doesn’t take long for him to do the math. He sits down at a small table and picks up a deck of cards.

  “So, we know Australia and California didn’t make it from the news,” he says.

  Elsie shakes her head. Distress takes over her expression. “Hard to believe.” She feeds Bernie sunflower seeds she has hidden in her coat pocket. The pigeon pecks them from the ground.

  “Let’s see, so the water has to be over a mile above sea level, or it wouldn’t be here. That would mean most of Africa is submerged. Oh…” He bobs his head, pondering in his own mind. “…yep, except for the mountainous regions on the eastern and southern coasts. They’re probably still there.”

  “I have a brother in Johannesburg,” Masaru says taking a seat across from Ben.

  I have been twisting a thin braid into my hair but drop it when I hear this. There might be others alive in the world. It’s odd, but it’s the first time I’ve thought of it—the real possibility that survivors are scattered all over the world. “Masaru, he’s probably alive!” I feel excited for him.

  “Yes. I would imagine he is.” He isn’t as happy as I expect him to be. “I’ll never see him again.”

  Elsie stands behind Masaru and rubs his shoulders. She puts her head next to his in an effort to console him.

  Masaru distracts himself out of his own sadness. “Western Asia should still be there.” He adds a three of diamonds to the house of cards he constructs with Ben. They’ve built two levels so far. That’s one thing there’s no shortage of. Most of the cards were sealed in plastic wrap, so the water didn’t damage them as it did the books and magazines. Poker and Spades are the main sources of entertainment for everyone in the shelter—those and dominoes.

  Peering up from her trunk, Elsie adds her two cents. “Europe’s a goner.” I’m amazed she’s been able to hold onto that thing this long. Dorian took Edgar’s ax and Ben’s walkie-talkies. Surprisingly, he let Ben keep the mini screwdrivers, which is funny because that’s how we got into the weapon plant in the first place.

  I turn the globe in my mind. “No, that’s gone,” I utter, gawking into my subconscious. “Uh no, that’s gone, too.” I realize I’m mumbling out loud. “The Middle East has certainly been shaken up,” I say so everyone can hear. “I mean Iran and Afghanistan are probably okay, but Iraq, Syria and most of Saudi Arabia are at the bottom of the ocean.” It’s so hard to imagine. The whole eastern half of the United States is though, so why not?

  “Unfortunately, it’s mostly mountains. That’s not where the population is.” Ben adds a queen of spades to the new fourth level, and the house of cards comes crashing down.

  The familiar sound of the door opening vibrates through the corridor, ringing an alarm that someone is coming. No one so much as whispers as we wait to see who owns the echoing shoes—Tobias, Finch or Dorian. I don’t like any of them, but Finch is my least hated. He’ll at least talk to us like he’s a normal person who’s also experiencing the greatest tragedy to ever hit Earth. The other two almost seem happy about the chaos—after all, they are leaders in a leaderless world.

  Usually, Finch or Tobias brings us our ration of food and water which used to be three times a day and larger portions. The past two days, we’ve only been given food twice a day and half the amount. Either they’re planning on starving us to death, or they’re running out of food. Neither one is good. Lucky for us, Edgar managed to hide the beef jerky and trail mix but we’re saving that for last resort.

  I count fifty-four echoing footsteps. He’s almost here, whoever he is. I glance at Ben and his lips move as his counts off the steps too.

  It’s Dorian. I’m mildly surprised because we haven’t seen him for three days.

  “Get up,” he orders. “You’re coming with me.” Of course, he steps in my direction. I stand up and feel the barrel of his gun in my back as he uses it to push me out.

  “Where are you taking me?” I ask. Not sure why I bother—he’ll either not tell me or lie.

  “All of you,” he says, motioning for Edgar and Masaru to exit the cell. Elsie follows us out clasping her trunk as Ben grabs the cards from the table.

  Dorian’s impatience is growing. “Let’s go.”

  Ben gives him the strangest look—a warning, before he steps out of the cell.

  “Where are you taking us?” I ask again.

  “It’s time for Plan X. We’re going on a little trip.”

  ***

  After we ascend from the underground caverns, Dorian takes us to central command. There’s already a large group of people gathered near the exit of the shelter with Dorian’s gunmen watching guard. By the way they’re bundled up and carrying their belongings, I assume they’ll be joining us for whatever the little trip is. I peruse the crowd—the old and sick? A few men from the young and brawn bring up the back of the line, but that’s it.

  I look around for Fran, expecting for her to approach us with her clipboard at any minute to check us in. I see her and she looks away. Is she avoiding eye contact?

  “Dorian, where are you taking us…and why the old and sick
? They need to stay here in the shelter,” I argue.

  Dorian gets within an inch of my face. “I’m going to say this one more time and one more time only.” He steps away and faces the rest of the group. “My number one priority is to ensure the survival of the human race. We are dangerously low on food and medical supplies. I will not waste them on people that do not contribute to that priority.”

  I may not be able to stop him, but I will expose him. “Why don’t you give them some of the food you’re hoarding in the underground city then? You know where you sleep nice and sound with blankets and pillows each night, drink your beer and eat all the food you want.” I am just a notch below shouting.

  Dorian rushes over. He grips me hard by the back of my arm and the pinch stings as he pulls me over to the side. “I’ve had about enough of you, Claudia Sheeplord. Don’t make me do something I’m probably not going to regret.”

  I know his threats aren’t empty, but I respond defiantly, “I find it hard to believe you would regret anything.” What do I have to lose? I’d rather be dead than under the control of this man for the rest of my life.

  Finch interrupts the tension when he approaches. I’m pissed because I see that it’s Edgar’s rifle he’s carrying.

  Dorian shoves me to Finch. “Watch this one extra close. Don’t take your eyes off her.”

  At least if I’m going to have a personal bodyguard, it’s Finch. I’m honestly surprised Dorian doesn’t have me handcuffed to his side.

  Finch leads me out the hole that goes in and out of the shelter. When I step outside, the sun reflects off of the water to the west. It’s beautiful and amazing, but is it ever going to go down, or is this the new normal?

  It’s strange how so much of what happened has still not sunk in. I mean really and truly sunk in. I’m not sure it ever will—it’s probably a natural survival tactic. Knowing I’m part of the 5% or less of the population who probably made it, isn’t exactly fantastic. And the thought that Dorian Lennox also survived makes it even worse. I’d love to reduce that overall percentage I’m a part of.

  Suddenly, Janie, the girl with pink hair from the plane I scavenged, comes to mind. We were supposed to tell her if we ever left. There’s no way to get to her now, and it doesn’t look like we’ll be coming back. Dorian doesn’t like our group of misfits, and he’s paired us up with the people he doesn’t think have the right to eat.

  I stare at the expression on Finch’s face as he walks alongside us, and something tells me we’re not being taken out to be executed. But what are we doing?

  Finch, Tobias and the five other young and brawn guys lead us south along the entrance and exit roads to the airport. I overhear Tobias refer to one of the young and brawn as Kaleb. He’s at least six feet tall with spiky black hair, and by his expression, I’d say he’d rather be anywhere than here.

  I may not know what Plan X is, but I’m about to come up with my own plan. One look at Ben tells me he’s doing the exact same thing.

  We stop and they have us form a single-file line. I do a quick headcount, and there are thirty-one in the sick and old group, including the mom and baby. Did Dorian ever have a heart or was he born a tin man?

  Glancing around, I notice that Dorian has disappeared. I never thought he’d be coming with us—wouldn’t want to take his eyes off the survivors he’s controlling. As soon as the thought leaves my mind, he drives up in Ben’s cart with Edgar’s kayak on the back! I’m not sure I knew what the word “despise” really meant until now.

  “Ben,” I whisper and point to Dorian. He rolls his eyes.

  Dorian thinks he’s king of the world driving that cart alongside the line of people with his chest pumped out. It’s just a luggage cart. I do my best to hold in a snicker. Ah, what the hell. I let it out. I hear Ben laugh under his breath.

  “Okay, people, here’s what we’re going to do,” Dorian yells for our attention and slows to a stop at the front of the line.

  A couple of the young and brawn guys standing next to Kaleb talk it up at the back of the line. Staring them down, Tobias steps up in front of them and they go silent. Damn it. I wish one of them would jack him in the jaw instead.

  Dorian climbs out of the cart and stands before us like we’re new recruits at boot camp. “We’re going to have to take some of you to another shelter because we only have limited room. This one has been designated as the rebirth complex, so you’ll understand that we need our strongest and youngest here.”

  I can hear the woman with the baby, she’s sobbing. Elsie hears her, too and steps forward out of line.

  “Let the mother and her child stay here in the shelter. Have you no mercy?” she scolds Dorian. “Besides, isn’t the baby the youngest? You said this is to be a rebirth complex.”

  Kaleb steps forward. “I agree. They should stay.”

  “The child is not healthy and needs medical supplies we don’t have,” Dorian says, excusing his actions. He steps into the cart and drives forward.

  “Wait!” I don’t know what I’m going to say next, but something has to be done. He can’t just take all these people somewhere to die.

  I step forward next to Elsie. “I’ll go.”

  Dorian pulls the cart over to where I’m standing. “You’ll go where?”

  “I’ll go search for medical supplies—so they can stay here,” I reply with as much confidence as I can muster.

  Ben is the first to volunteer, “I’ll go with her.”

  “Me, too,” Elsie adds.

  Edgar nods that he is also on board.

  Masaru breaks the tension with a smile. “I want to go, too.”

  “That’s mighty nice of you to volunteer, Ms. Sheeplord.” He eyes me down for a second…a long second. He’s thinking. He climbs out of the cart and approaches me. He’s eye to eye—his nose is almost touching mine. What is it about him always wanting to invade my personal space?

  Dorian is snide with his response, “You must think I’m an idiot if you think I’d let your entire fan club go. I need insurance you’ll come back.”

  “Why do you care if we come back?” I ask. I’m actually curious.

  “You’re going for medical supplies, aren’t you? It’s my job to make sure we get our share…and Ms. Sheeplord, I was always taught to keep my enemies close.”

  “Okay, then Elsie and I will go with her,” Ben says.

  “No, you especially aren’t going anywhere,” Dorian is adamant. “Just Claudia and the old lady.”

  “Her name is Elsie,” Ben is quick to say.

  “And we need the kayak.” I’m sure Dorian is shocked when I don’t push back about who goes. It works better this way because we may need the kayak to get through some areas, and it will only fit two with supplies.

  “Of course you do.”

  I can feel his hatred, but he knows he has to deal with me. If he’s not careful, I could do something crazy like start a rebellion. Oh, the thought makes me laugh.

  Dorian motions to his thugs to return to the shelter. We’ve won for now. Most of these people wouldn’t have survived one hour in the cold.

  Chapter 2

  The sun is hardly awake, and Elsie and I are packed up and ready to go. She brings her trunk and I have stuffed my backpack with what is left of the beef jerky, a few bottles of water and a first aid kit—thanks to Fran. Bernie is also coming along for the ride, perched on Elsie’s shoulder as usual.

  Dorian allows us to take the kayak without a fight. It might be the only way we can make it, and he needs the supplies he hopes we’ll find.

  Dragging the kayak across the snow, we make our way through the graveyard of cars littered across Pena Boulevard until we reach the gas station. Even though the kayak slides easily over the packed snow, my shoulder is killing me, and I need to take a break.

  Elsie tries the door, but it’s locked. Why was everyone so concerned about locking up before they left? It cost Jeff, the poor sap at the rental car office, his life.

  “Do you see anything w
e can break the glass with?” I ask. I drop down on the curb outside the store. The wind nips my lips as I rub the burn out of my shoulder.

  “Better,” Elsie says with a wink. She reaches inside her trunk and pulls out a key ring with all sorts of small tools on it. Oh, if Ben ever sees that! She starts poking different tools into the key hole of the door—one after another. She turns to me with a huge smile and pushes the door open.

  I stand up too fast from the curb, giving myself a head rush. After I shake the dizziness off, I follow Elsie into the store. “Let’s just get what we need for now, and we can grab more on the way back.”

  The store has been completely flooded at one point, so anything that isn’t in a bottle, can or tightly-sealed package has been destroyed. We take a lot of beef jerky. I’m tired of it and my jaws are sore from ripping and chewing it, but it’s one of the best sources of protein we have now. Elsie holds up a large bag of peanuts and I feel like I’m going to barf. If I don’t eat another peanut the rest of my life, it will be too soon.

  “No!” I tease her. We grab several bottles of juice and a plastic-coated map of Denver—just in case, and all the trail mix we can hold. Elsie snatches a handful of bags of sunflower seeds and shoves them in her pocket. She takes two jars of peanut butter and sticks them into the top of my bag.

  We exit the store, and two cars and a minivan remain parked at the gas pumps. It’s like people were just zapped out of existence. More likely they were carried away by the tidal wave and are deposited somewhere miles down the road. Chills run down my spine as Elsie and I head toward the potential mass grave.

  When the water level reaches my knee, I have Elsie get inside the kayak, and I push her along. By the time we get to Tower Road, the water is over two feet in most places and I can join her inside the boat.

  We head south along Tower Road figuring it has more opportunities if we need help or to find stuff we may need.

  We paddle our way toward Denver, and the true depth of what has happened starts to sink in. I guess I thought if we could get outside the airport grounds, there would be survivors popping up everywhere. Not the case—there isn’t a soul—living or dead anywhere. Houses are still flooded and the water level continues to rise as we get closer to Denver.