Russian Doomsday Read online

  An older woman walked by, eyed Mikey, and grinned at him. Kalvin laughed. He got some of the looks, but Mikey got the girls. Kalvin was burly, big and blunt, with a barrel chest and massive arms. His father was pure up Italian, his mother African American, with a little Latina mixed in for good measure. Kalvin had a rough kind of handsomeness. The women liked him well enough, but some were nervous around him. Not so with Mikey. They didn’t see the bastard behind the smile. They swarmed him and lived to regret it.

  The woman came back and walked up to Mikey “You’re a cute one. What’s your name?” she cooed.

  Mikey grinned and put an arm around her thick waist, looking up at her. “Mikey. What’s your name?”

  “Patricia. Here’s my number. Give me a call one of these days, sugar,” she said and wrote down her number on a napkin. She bumped her hip to him and left.

  “Jesus Christ. You’re like a goddam honeypot,” Kalvin laughed.

  “You know, I got game,” he laughed, and tucked the napkin into his pocket.

  “Yeah, you got game. Back to planning. I say let’s hit it around 2 am. Everything will be quiet, everyone dead asleep. We can get in and out quick,” Kalvin suggested. He liked things simple, quick, and easy. He didn’t like to linger at sites; too much chance of being seen by someone unable to sleep.

  “Sounds like a plan, Sam.” Mikey grinned, his cerulean eyes twinkling mischievously. He lifted his glass in salute.

  “I still don’t get how you get the girls. It seems like you have a new girl every week,” Kalvin grouched. His dating life was nearly dead.

  “Those bitches don’t know what hit them. I get it, hit it, and quit it. Just like my dear old mother. That bitch used to beat down on me. It was a goddamn relief when she blew town,” Mikey said, his eyes narrowing.

  “You hit the women? They don’t, like, call you out on it?”

  “Fuck no, they’re too goddamn scared. I make sure that when I’m done, they know not to open their fucking mouths. My dad taught me that. He used to beat the shit out of me ’cause my mom left. He said that if I told anyone, he’d beat me even harder. Maybe even make me brain dead. It always scared the shit out of me.”

  “Shit, Mikey. I knew you had a rough fucking childhood, but dude, I didn’t know it was that bad,” Kalvin said, shocked. You never knew what someone had gone through.

  “Ain’t nothin’ but a thang. ’sides, women like that shit. They like it rough. When they say they don’t, they’re full of shit. Trust me. I’ve had a couple come back for more,” Mikey said, grinning. He looked over at the woman who’d given him her number and winked at her.

  “See, it’s just that easy. She’ll be begging for more,” he laughed, nodding at the woman.

  Kalvin shook his head. He had to admit, the kid had charm. But it was deadly.

  Mikey stretched and belched. Then he got up from the table. “Gotta get back to the grind. Come by about one, we’ll head out from there.”

  “Sure will,” Kalvin said, and watched as Mikey left the bar. He’d known Mikey all his life. Even as kids, Mikey had been a bad seed. The boy had had it rough, he’d give Mikey that. He’d not known how bad till now, though. Mikey was a calculating little bastard and crafty as hell. He’d not met many men like Mikey, and he was glad for it.

  Kalvin shrugged and got up. He needed to get back too. Going outside into the bright sunshine, Kalvin squinted his light brown eyes against the harsh glare. Kalvin laughed. He was glad he wasn’t on Mikey’s bad side. The guy wasn’t that big, but he was just that mean.

  Lincoln, NE, 31 July 2018

  Sayer and Joy were sitting at the computer browsing the latest news updates.

  “Well, nothing else about POSEIDON. That’s good, isn’t it?” Joy asked, her hand on Sayer’s broad back.

  “Yeah. Everything went all quiet after Orlov’s visit. Look, see, here’s an article by the N.Y. Times, says that Orlov is due to come back sometime next year.”

  “That’s a good sign, isn’t it? And there’s another one. What does it say?” she pointed down the screen.

  “Yeah, says everything went great with the President and Orlov. They’re all buddy-buddy.”

  “Do you believe them, Sayer?” she asked, her eyes looking into his, worry etched on her brows.

  “Honestly, the articles could be propaganda, like so many things in the news these days. Or they could really be on good terms. It’s difficult to know. I just… don’t trust Orlov. I mean, why make the weapon if he isn’t going to use it?”

  “I know. That’s what’s so frustrating. It’s difficult to watch news anymore. There’s so much blustering and negativity out there, along with the fake news. When did that become so acceptable? Where did honest journalism go?” she asked.

  “The hell if I know. I don’t know why people put up that crap, really. Fake news? You would think it’d be illegal or something,” Sayer said, frustration clear in his voice.

  “Yes, it should be illegal. It could get people hurt or killed. Didn’t they have someone call in some kind of fake 911 and the cops kicked the door down, thinking there were killers inside, when it was just two kids playing a game on TV?”

  “Yeah, I heard about that. It seems like anyone can lie and no one checks it out. Remember when that high-up newscaster was caught lying? He got fired.” Sayer shook his head. “Why? Why do people feel they need to lie?”

  He changed the subject. “I heard from Pike. He’s heading west. Once he gets settled, he’s going to come up here and we can meet.”

  “He sounds like a nice guy. I can’t believe he just picked up and left his home to come out here, though,” Joy said.

  “He has a friend, and I get the sense he likes her a lot.” Sayer grinned at Joy, and she laughed.

  “Well, I guess that’d be a great motivator, a woman,” she sniggered, her brows waggling up and down.

  Sayer leaned over, hugged Joy, and kissed her on her forehead. “I’d move to wherever you wanted to go. I’d follow you anywhere,” he said, tickling her waist. She laughed and shoved at him.

  “Goofy.” She laughed, but he could tell she was pleased.

  “Well, I don’t know what’ll happen between Pike and his friend. I hope he doesn’t get his heart broken, but either way, moving to Maryville is a smart move. I really don’t think one wants to be anywhere near either coast.” He shook his head. “Hey, I need to go take a look at a shipping container. You wanna come with me?”

  “Sure. What’re you wanting with a shipping container?” she asked, puzzled.

  “It’s a small one, and I figured we could use it for storage. It’s small enough that I can put it on the back of my trailer.”

  “Okay, I’m game.”

  They got up and went out to her truck. Sayer backed up to the barn, where he kept the trailer, and jumped out. Connecting the trailer to the truck, he grinned at Joy, who scooted over to the driver’s side.

  She slowly pulled the truck forward and Sayer saw that the hitch was good. He connected the wires for the tail lights on the trailer to the truck, then went to the passenger’s side and got in.

  “You sure you don’t want to drive?” her brow was up high.

  “Naw, I’ll drive back. Especially if we get the shipping container.”

  Joy pulled out and they headed for the highway. Sayer looked out the window at the passing flat land. Fields and fields of wheat, their golden heads waving at him. He stuck his hand out and hand surfed, his mind on the news he’d read. He didn’t buy any of it. He didn’t care what they said, he didn’t trust Russia at all.

  He gave Joy directions and within fifteen minutes they pulled into a salvage yard. He pointed to the small shipping container.

  She pulled the truck up near it. “That’s a nice little container,” she said. “I was thinking it’d be huge.”

  “No, it’s pretty small. We can move it around on this trailer until we figure out what we want to do with it.” He saw a middle-aged man, covered in grease and grime
, coming out from a building, he reckoned the office. He raised a hand. “Hey, I called earlier about the shipping container you advertised. Is this it?”

  “Yep, that’s her. Was wann’n hundred bucks,” the man said.

  “If you can load it onto my trailer, we got a deal,” Sayer grinned.

  “We can do that. Go on to the office and pay Meg. I’ll get this loaded up for you.”

  “Thanks. Come on Joy, let’s go pay for a container.” He grinned at her and put his arm around her shoulder. They both walked to the building Sayer had seen the man come out of. Inside, he could smell oil and grease. The place was cluttered with parts of every description. Most rusted and dented. Car parts, old stoves, old wood stoves, rusted out motorcycle parts, and so on.

  He walked up to the counter and a woman, large and in charge, with a cigarette hanging off her lip. “You Meg? We were told to pay you for the small shipping container,” he said.

  Meg looked him up and down, and then gave Joy a once-over, and grunted and went to the cash register. “How much he say it was?” she asked.

  “One hundred.”

  Meg glanced at him, grunted again and rang it up. Sayer pulled out his wallet and pulled out five twenties. He handed it over. She squinted up at him, the smoke going into her eyes. He smiled at her and he saw her eyes sparkle a little. Then she grunted again. “Thanks, come see us again,” she said, and turned around and went into another office and sat down in front of a TV.

  Sayer looked at Joy, who shrugged and grinned. They both walked out before they started laughing.

  “Friendly,” she sniggered.

  “Yeah, really friendly.” He laughed and hugged Joy. They got to the tuck and the man had the container on a large forklift. They watched as he expertly maneuvered the small container on to the trailer. Once on it, Sayer thanked the man, then he and Joy got the thick cargo straps out of the back of the truck. He threw one of the straps over the container and Joy secured her side while he secured the other. They repeated with another strap.

  Getting back into the truck, Sayer turned to Joy, “You got your weapon?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Why don’t we head to the firing range and let you practice. It’s only a couple miles away, we might as well. Then we can go out and grab something to eat.” Sayer had gotten her a Sauer P238. It was small enough for her hands.

  “Sure, I guess. I just wish I wasn’t so nervous with it.”

  “It’s okay, Joy. The more you use it, clean it, the more comfortable you’ll get with it. It’s a tool, just like your surgical equipment. Some of that stuff is sharp, like the scalpels, but you’ve worked with them for so long you don’t even think twice, whereas I’d be scared as hell to touch one.”

  “I guess you’re right. I never thought of it that way. I do like it. It’s nice and small. I think if I can just get used to the noise, I’ll be okay.” She grinned at him.

  “It just takes time.”

  They pulled into the shooting range and got out. Sayer looked around. Not too many people there today. They signed in and received their safety glasses and earplugs. Going outside, they went down to the range. There were different targets, and Sayer loaded one up for Joy.

  He stood behind Joy and observed as she checked her weapon, checked and double-checked.

  “Are you stalling?” he laughed.

  She elbowed him in the gut and then raised the Sauer. He saw her take a deep breath and her shoulders relaxed. She fired several times.

  “You hit the target! Good shot, honey.”

  “I did! Oh my gosh, I did it!” she cried excitedly, looking up at him. Even in her excitement, he noted that she kept the weapon pointed down. He was glad she remembered gun safety.

  Turning back, she raised it once more. She consistently hit the target each time, getting closer to the bullseye.

  After about an hour, Joy declared she’d had enough, and they left. He took her to a hole in the wall diner they loved. They had the best barbequed ribs.

  “I’m really proud of you, honey.”

  “I can’t believe how good I did. I was nervous, but then, when I got those first two shots, it seemed to relax me.” She grinned, then took a drink of her sweet tea.

  “You’ll be hitting the middle of that target soon.”

  “I hope so. Oh, and I got a book the other day, I was going to tell you about it, but I kept forgetting.”

  “What kind of book?”

  “It’s about survival cooking, plant identification, all that kind of stuff. I really found it interesting. I’m hoping to learn how to cook with whatever is at hand, and outside as well. Plus, I’m starting to learn about medicinal plants for home cures.”

  “Wow, that’s cool. Maybe I’ll take a look as well. Can’t have too much knowledge.” He smiled at her.

  “Well, I figured, if the pioneers could survive all that time with even less that what we have, then with my knowledge of medicine, it only made sense that I learn about the medicinal uses of plants. If something happens and we don’t have the ability to go to the pharmacy, I’d better have some kind of knowledge that’ll help.”

  “You’ll make one hell of a pioneer woman, between shooting the hell out of someone and curing them,” he laughed.

  “Smartass. I know the statistics of gunshot wounds that come into ER. I also know there’re a lot of people coming into ER with wounds from mishandling their weapons. I just want to make sure I’m not one of them.”

  “Yes, dear,” he said, and batted his eyelashes.

  She laughed and smacked him.

  “Eat up, knothead,” she laughed.

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek. She turned and grinned at him. “What was that for?”

  “Just ’cause. I’m really glad we’re working together on this prepping thing now. I’ve seen enough trash talk out there to know that many people look at preppers as crazies. I know, too, that a lot of our money goes into it.”

  “I’d say it’s money well spent. Besides, if we really wanted to get something non-prepper, we’d do it. I think money should be used as a tool. We pretty much have everything we need as far as useless things go: two TVs we barely watch, smart phones, a landline telephone. I don’t mind spending money securing of our future.”

  “Thanks honey, I mean it, for understanding and supporting me. It really means a lot to me. Sometimes I feel almost panicked, but then I look at our preps and I calm down.” He felt her warm hand pat his and he turned his hand and squeezed hers. She was a good woman. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve her, but he was sure glad he had her. “Let’s say we go out to the movies tonight. We’ve not done that for a long time. Once we finish eating, we can go drop off the trailer and head in to town.” He grinned at her.

  Her eyes widened, and a slow smile spread across her face. “Even a chick flick?”

  He groaned and let his head drop to the table, nearly landing it in his plate. She laughed and poked him in the ribs.

  “Ohhhhkkkkaaaayyyy,” he whined loudly, drawing several stares from other patrons. Dramatically, he slumped his body and shoulders slumped.

  Joy laughed and smacked him on his arm, looking around. “You better quit.”

  “Ohhhhhhkkkkkaaaaayyyyy,” he whimpered, and waggled his eyebrows at her.

  Route 34 West, TN, 31 July 2018

  Pike had been driving eight hours, with little traffic, and was making good time. He’d stopped only once for gas, and was now a couple hours out from Memphis. He looked out the side window and nearly slammed on the brakes. There was an Army Surplus and Antique store. Just ahead was an exit. He had to stop there.

  There were all kinds of things he needed, and even then he wasn’t sure exactly what he would need. But seeing the Army Surplus reminded him that he had thought of getting an old Geiger counter. If he had thought something new would work, he’d get it, but he had a feeling new stuff wouldn’t work if there was an EMP detonation. He took the exit and drove around until he found a
sign that indicated that the surplus store was ahead.

  It had never really occurred to him to go to an Army Surplus store. He laughed and shook his head. He hoped they had a Geiger counter, but if they didn’t, he’d look around anyway. He needed something to wake his brain up from the mind-numbing driving. He’d never been a happy driver. Didn’t like to take road trips.

  He looked at the clock. It was nearly 5 pm. Ye really hoped the store hadn’t already closed. Pulling up, he could see people still inside. Good.

  Getting out of the truck, he walked into the store. What customers there were looked to be in no hurry, so he browsed around, looking at all the old things: knives, bayonets, even old cartouche boxes.

  Then he saw a what he was looking for. It looked like a 1950s model. He had no real idea, but figured it was old either way. He took it to the register and asked the clerk if it still worked. The old man grinned and turned it on. The machine began to click softly, and Pike grinned. It was rusted in some places and the glass had a small crack in it. Most of the paint had rubbed off. A piece of military history.

  “They made these things to last, son. You can’t go wrong with old technology,” the man wheezed, his balding head nodding. His glasses were set on the end of his nose, ready to fall off.

  “Great, I’ll take it.”

  “You expecting to go into radiation?” the old man asked, his large caterpillar brows wavering around in curiosity. Then he laughed and wheezed.

  “No. It’s a gag gift for one of the guys at work,” Pike lied smoothly, and grinned.

  He was back on the road within thirty minutes. He was antsy to get to Missouri, but he knew he couldn’t travel any faster than it took to get there. He’d always wished there were transporters. Now that would be cool, to just pop from one place to another. He was pleased with himself for thinking of the Geiger counter, and called Margo.

  “Hey, guess what I found?” he asked, laughing.

  “You might as well tell me. I’m tired and it’s been a long day. I had to deal with some a-hole tourists.” She laughed and he grinned, loving her laugher.