Fall, Rise, Repeat Read online

  Zav pulled out his cell phone. “No service. We won’t be able to contact anybody for a long time.”

  “No shit,” Ivan responded flatly, and gave Zav a blank stare.

  There were more buildings surrounding them now, and the scene was becoming more chaotic as they went further in. Police cars were speeding past in all directions, and there were people scattered everywhere, looting stores and evacuating apartments.

  “Drats,” Zav began, but silenced himself. A large riot truck blocked the avenue ahead of them.

  “We have to get out—” Ivan began, but Zav grunted.

  “We’re going to die if we go out there,” he responded, but Ivan had already unbuckled and stepped out of the car.

  Ivan made way towards a pharmacy on the closest corner of the intersection, less than a block up the avenue. Zav hustled after him, mumbling to himself about what a poor decision this was.

  A dozen shots echoed down the avenue, and Ivan dove towards a parked car. Zav ducked and crawled towards the curb.

  The gunfire continued for several seconds, and there were screams everywhere. People began running, jumping over cars, trying to get to cover. Ivan stayed put, not wanting to give up his ground.

  An ocean of civilians rushed away from the inner-city and into the darkness, chased by the roar of an engine and the honk of a horn. A riot truck began driving down the avenue.

  “Ivan! We have to get off the street!” Zav cried out and sprinted towards a small building across the block. Ivan shook his head but didn’t want to leave his friend alone, so he followed.

  Ivan and Zav pushed through a heavy door to what appeared to be an apartment building. They stood in the small lobby, unsure where to go.

  Automatic gunfire rang through the building, and they both froze.

  “It’ll pass. We just need to stay off the streets,” Zav yelled, his voice drained out by the copious sounds outside.

  He snapped his fingers in Ivan’s face and motioned for him to follow. They hiked up a stairwell to a hallway. The second door on the left was open.

  Ivan pointed to the door and crept towards it, keeping his back to the wall. He inched towards the opening and peeked his head in. Zav followed closely.

  “Clear,” Ivan stated.

  He exhaled and entered the room. It was a mess; clothes, a suitcase, tipped chairs, dishes were sprawled everywhere, grocery bags and trash decorated the floor and furniture. He swiftly moved through the living room and made for the kitchen.

  “Zav, look for food. Something we can eat now. I’m going to search the other rooms,” he ordered, and walked down the short hallway.

  He pushed open the first door he found, and it led to an unkept bedroom. He flipped the light switch, and it flickered on. “Power grid hasn’t failed yet,” he shouted from the bedroom to Zav, who was digging through cabinets.

  He swung open the closet door and sifted through the clothes. With no luck, he paced around the room and opened the nightstand. The drawer opened easily, and his eyes landed on the gun inside. Next to it, a full magazine of cartridges.

  He wrapped his hand around the pistol and felt its weight. “I got us some personal protection! I’m surprised this survived the government sweeps.”

  He loaded the pistol but did not cock it. He walked to the kitchen where Zav had a grocery bag of food.

  “Now, Ivan, do you really think we’d need something like that?” Zav asked, grabbing the grocery bag off the table and moving towards Ivan.

  They looked at each other for a split second, and Ivan shrugged his shoulders. “Need it? It only makes sense. I don’t want to have to use it, really,” he admitted, and tucked it away in his sweatshirt pocket.

  There was a deafening rumble outside the apartment complex, and the tink of a flare gun firing could be distinctly heard over the background noise of shouting.

  “S.O.S. maybe?” Zav said, turning, then pushed the blinds over the window to the side and peered outside. “Good God!”

  Ivan pushed Zav aside and gazed upon the scene. There were still several people running about, some of them shooting back at the police, who had mostly dispelled. The trees were all on fire, crumbling into piles of charred wood. It would be no surprise if the whole city had been turned into a police state – the government would try its hardest to pretend the situation was under control.

  “I don’t suppose the fire department is active, do you? And I say we wouldn’t trust them, given that the government has already turned our local police into their own Gestapo.”

  Ivan looked at Zav. “Look. Focus. We’re going to run out of here, and head out of the city. The suburbs shouldn’t be dangerous. But we must move quickly.”

  Zav nodded his head in agreement and they bolted out of the apartment. They moved quickly down the stairs and burst into the open. It took Ivan a moment before he remembered where he parked his car.

  He hustled down the sidewalk, trying to keep his head down and keep a steady pace toward his car. He knew it was alongside the sidewalk somewhere, but exactly where was a mystery.

  After a minute, Zav pulled on Ivan’s sweatshirt and demanded his attention. “It’s not here!”

  Ivan squatted and looked Zav in his eyes. Fire reflected in their eyes, and there was a second of tension before Ivan realized that Zav was right.

  “Now what?” Ivan yelled, and threw his fists in the air.

  Zav put his fingers to his lips and slouched down. They had minimal cover behind a metal bench perched awkwardly above the curb.

  “We’ll have to—” Ivan stopped talking as his eyes focused on two moving figures behind Zav. His heart skipped a beat as his eyes widened and his mouth gaped open.

  Zav spun his head around and shot to his feet. Ivan tumbled backwards and hit his head on the bench. The two shadowy figures raised their submachine guns and pointed them at the men.

  Zav pulled at Ivan and forced himself into a full sprint.

  Ivan sat on the ground and brought his hands up to his face, trying to offer his surrender to the officers.

  The officers neared him, several meters away, and he thought of the last option he had. His hand maneuvered to his pocket and wrapped around the pistol. He cocked it and whipped it out of his pocket and pointed it at the officers. His finger pulled sporadically.

  One officer jumped back and clutched his side. The other unleashed a round of bullets from his weapon, then a single, final shot. He bent over and wrapped his hands around his partner’s neck, feeling for a pulse.

  There was little movement on the block. One thing was sure: there wouldn’t be any more movement at all on this block of sidewalk very soon. The officer looted the bodies and rushed back up the avenue.

  Ivan’s empty body, slumped against the bench, curled over into a bloody mess on the sidewalk. A river, descending from a thick lake of blood, seeped into the cracks of the road. Ivan’s hand sat motionless on the pistol.

  Chapter 2

  Zav continued to sprint, despite being startled by the gunfire behind him. His legs picked up speed as fear and anxiety filled his body. A carbonated bottle of emotions inside him was ready to explode.

  The city buildings began to fade into houses with small yards and Zav found it harder to keep running the further he got into the suburb.

  He slowed up to a walk and choked, gasping for breath, then leaned against a cracked brick wall.

  His eyes drifted down to his feet. His hands rested against his thighs.

  “No…” he cried out quietly into the night. He was unsure what happened back in the city, but he could guess.

  He looked ahead and examined the neighborhood through teary eyes. The houses were situated tightly next to each other, with no or very little yard on the side and only a small patch of land in front. On the street, there were a couple, maybe more, cars parked on both sides.

  Zav stood up, his legs weak. His left knee buckled and he crumpled into a ball of tears on the ground.

  After several seconds, he b
egan to hiccup. He dragged himself to the driveway of a larger house. The color was hard to tell in the dark, but he guessed some shade of red. He laid on the yard, his hands cupped over his face and his knees bent.

  He listened, over his sobs, to the sound of gunfire in the distance. It was calming down now, as people ran out of ammunition or were killed.

  Killed like Ivan. Zav let out a whimper, almost like a pathetic dog, and he realized he needed to stop crying.

  With a heavy heart, Zav stood up and glanced around. He knew he could use one of these houses as a shelter for the night.

  Zav walked slowly and quietly up the steps of the large house and put his hand on the handle of the front door. He gave it a forceful jerk, but it did not open. With a sigh, he turned around and made towards the next house.

  Locked. Locked. The fourth house was a light blue, Zav guessed, with peeling paint on the corners. It looked as though nobody was even living in it. He went to the front door and gave the handle an optimistic twist, and to his surprise it turned and the door swung open.

  It made a horrible creaking noise and Zav cringed.

  He tiptoed inside and let his eyes adjust. It was very unkempt; the wood floor was scratched, and the carpet in the rooms that surrounded him was patchy. The wallpaper print, dark swirls randomly scattered, dated the décor. The furniture was rather depressing with torn armrests and stains that told gross stories.

  He swaggered towards a room at the end of the hall and pushed the door open. It did not creak, to his surprise, and he closed it behind him.

  It was a bedroom. The bed in the middle had half a dozen pillows and blankets everywhere. It was notably clean and contrasted the room around it.

  He moved towards the bed and pulled back the cover. It was empty, but there were indents that showed somebody had slept here for a long time.

  He kicked off his shoes and made himself at home, in this bed that was not his, in a home that was not his. He closed his eyes and passed out. When Zav opened his eyes, the natural light almost blinded him, and it took several seconds for his eyes to adjust. There was a moment of blurriness, but then his eyes focused on something a few feet in front of him.

  He slowly recognized the shape: two legs, a body, arms, and a head. His eyes quickly glanced up and down and he realized there was a person standing in front of him.

  Zav threw the blankets off and jumped back, gasping.

  “Yeah, shit for brains, you’re in my house. I dunno who you are. I dunno why you’re here,” the man said, with a soft Southern accent. He made an awkward pause after every other word. “But you’re gonna leave, or I’ll skin you and stuff you in a can. I could use some canned meat.”

  Zav bit his tongue and fell off the bed. “Look, I really—”

  The man raised an eyebrow and cocked his head forward. His yellow top teeth stuck out. He shuffled backwards and put his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans. “Got a story f’r me?”

  “I was wandering around last night...you see, I was in the city with my friend, Ivan,” Zav bit his lip and tried not to tear up again, “and he’s gone. And then there were gunshots. And I was tired. So tired!”

  “So tired!” The man mimicked, scratching his patchy beard. “Yeah? So?”

  “I’ll leave. I don’t want trouble,” Zav smiled weakly and took a step towards the bedroom door.

  The man held up his hand and cleared his throat. He tugged on his yellowing white tank top. “On second thought, I could use a second pair of hands. You see, the TV stopped working after that big ass bomb went off. Everyone was panicking. I just saw outside my window this mornin’ somebody gettin’ stabbed in the neck. Poor guy is still sitting in the road. Care to see?”

  The man winked at Zav and he crossed his arms uncomfortably.

  “What do you need help with – uh, I don’t know your name.” Zav put his chin down, but his eyes looked up and met the man’s.

  “Name’s Lynyrd. My amigos call me Gator – uh, they would. One was shot while huntin’, and the other shot’mself after he mistook his friend for a deer,” he chuckled to himself, his eyes darting around while his mouth was still gaping open. “I th’nk that’s how it went.”

  Zav’s lip quivered and he swallowed. “Well...Lynyrd, what can I help you with?” Lynyrd threw his head back and exhaled. “Listen closely. Imma’ say this once. I got an old pickup truck in the backyard. It’s got a whole bunch of gas in the bed we can use on the road. We gotta get out of this city. I know a place not too far from here where we can meet up with a couple of my – other – friends, and we’ll see how long we can survive.”

  “What about food?” Zav asked.

  “Done and done. Got a huntin’ rifle and can shoot a fair shot. Now, I need you for a couple things. You gotta help me carry one thing onto the truck.

  “You see, f’r score and up-my-ass years ago, my cousins gave me a real nice ATV. Pretty heavy. We needa put that in the back and strap it down.”

  Zav nodded his head and gave Lynyrd a thumbs up. They shuffled out of the bedroom to the backyard. There, in the back corner, sat a rusty red pickup truck.

  Lynyrd pointed to a shed in the opposite corner of the yard and motioned for Zav to open it. Zav maneuvered through the mounds of dirt and debris laying around and made it to the shed with minimal trouble.

  He yanked open the door and gazed upon the ATV inside. He squinted as a cloud of dust rained from the ceiling. He covered his eyes with one hand and stepped over the clutter of tools. When he was behind the ATV, he began pushing the camouflage-painted vehicle out of the shed.

  “Ya need help?” Lynyrd called from outside.

  Zav grunted in reply and gave the ATV a shove. It rolled forward, slowly, and the front wheels left the shed. Zav stood up straight and huffed. “Yes.”

  Lynyrd walked to the front of the ATV and placed his hands on the frame. Zav looked him in the eyes and mouthed “One, two, three.”

  They pulled and pushed the ATV out of the shed without any further struggling and towards the truck.

  “Now, I’ll lower the tailgate and we’ll just push ’er on in,” Lynyrd ordered, and unlocked a hatch.

  Zav stood awkwardly as he waited for Lynyrd. Finally, he was given a hand signal and rolled the ATV behind the truck. Lynyrd jumped onto the back of the truck and squatted. He gripped the front of the ATV firmly and whistled.

  Zav bent down and lifted the back of the ATV. With their combined efforts, they were able to move it onto the back of the truck. Lynyrd grabbed some cables and tied it down.

  “Aight, now I reckon that’ll be worth all the trouble it took to get ‘er up here, wouldn’t you say, boy?” Lynyrd swung his legs over the side of the truck and landed softly on a dirt pile below.

  Zav shrugged his shoulders and shook out his arms. “Don’t know why we’d need if it we have the truck.”

  Lynyrd smiled awkwardly and raised one eyebrow. “Well, this’ll be bett’r for ‘da backwoods.” He patted the side of the truck and shuffled towards the driver’s door.

  Zav didn’t take the effort to respond and walked to the passenger-side door. He swung it open and made brief eye contact with Lynyrd, who was already situating himself in the driver’s seat.

  “Don’t suppose there’ll be anybody enforcing the speed limits, eh? Hell, even if they were tryin’ they wun’t catch me, I wun’t listen!” He turned on the radio but it made no noise but static; he grabbed a Marshall Tucker CD from above his sun visor and the stereo system began to crank out Can’t You See. He put the truck in reverse and accelerated.

  Zav looked behind them nervously, unsure what to expect – the truck crashed through the wood fence and onto the road. Lynyrd hit the brakes and the truck skidded to a halt. Zav looked around, checking if anybody had seen them. The dead man in the street was their only witness.

  The truck did a small 90-degree turn to face down the street, out of the city – the opposite direction Zav and Ivan had arrived from, southeast.

  They con
tinued down the road at a consistently fast pace. Zav rolled down his window using the rotating lever and stuck his hand out. “I could enjoy the apocalypse, you know. No rules.”

  “That’s how I live every day,” Lynyrd said, scratching his patchy beard. “Ain’t nobody can tell me how I am supposed to live. It’s the U-S-fucking-A! Jesus, ain’t that why we had that, uh, Resolutionary-whatever war with all them Brits? Freedom!”

  Zav cringed at Lynyrd’s stance. He stared straight ahead, biting his lip, but enjoyed the feeling of speeding down the road like nobody could stop you – to travel anywhere, anytime. The feeling of absolute freedom.

  Even so, Zav decided to persist. “But rules ensure that everyone will do their job. I mean, nobody would work if they didn’t have to. So somebody had to enforce rules.” Zav looked to Lynyrd, awaiting an answer.

  “Now, ya think that ain’t nobody's gonna work, ‘cause of all that welfare shit they already get. But when people realize they have nobody to depend on except theyselves, they gonna go out and make sure they survive! I mean, we can feed those lazy liberals all-the-day-long, but you take away their support, and they’ll do something!”

  “But you realize not everybody can. I mean, people have children, disabilities, illnesses, money problems, you can’t expect everybody to be able to work,” Zav replied, folding his hands as though he was giving a speech. “A democracy implies that we’ll be there to help each other.”

  “Democracy fails. All that ‘I help ya, ya help me’ hogwash only goes so far. You helped me lift ‘dat ATV. But now I ain’t expecting you to lift everything for me. If I might say, agh—” he coughed into the steering wheel and sprayed spit onto the windshield –“anyone’s assistance should be some sort uh, crutch, ya know? People are supposed to live these independent lives, not be pushed around in a wheelchair forever. You gotta be able to s’pport y’self. And if you can’t, then obviously ya too weak for this world. The strongest survive.”

  “You sound like a fucking Nazi!” Zav yelled, twisting his head wildly to Lynyrd, disgusted.