10 comments/ 11413 views/ 26 favorites Fall of Man Ch. 01 By: Tara_Neale It was the end of the world...the fucking end of the world. The honest to goodness end of the world. How many stupid fucking movies had Emily watched about this shit? How many times had she laughed at the crazy story lines about asteroids, super volcanos and aliens. But it took a far sight less than that to end the world, society as we knew it. It was the same old thing...hubris, greed, man's own flaws did him in. A fire sale as the stupid movies called it...they did not do justice to the damage that a few lines of zeros and ones, code, viruses could reek in this technological world. It had taken only hours to set us back from the species that went to the moon and built buildings to reach the heavens...to the base animals set upon survival that we all were. When the banks failed and you could not get your money...if you had it. When planes fell out of the sky and trains and cars collided randomly because there was no one controlling them anymore. When the world of instant news and connection, hundreds of friends you had never met and constant barrage of pings and dings to alert you to the latest message died to silence. Silence that few people were comfortable in. When power and phones and Internet simply ceased to work. When walking and bicycles became the only reliable means of transportation. Well, the world was not a pretty place. Emily had been stuck in the city when it hit. But she had watched enough of those damned movies to know that was no place to be. Besides her mom and step-father had a nice rural place a couple hundred miles away. But a couple hundred miles away might as well be the moon when you have to walk...in the middle of winter no less. What she would have given then for her old bicycle or one of her daddy's shot guns? But she had neither. All she had was her wits, common sense and an unquenchable desire to live. That would have to be enough, she thought as she began to pack. No need to carry bottle water with all that snow. It would just weigh her down, slow her progress. She had a box of energy bars for the gym at the back of the cupboard. That was a definite must. As were the small pot, a big knife, a couple bags of beans and noodles and all the matches and lighters she could find. She thanked her lucky stars for the lessons that her step-father or daddy as she had long since started to think of the man had taught her about hunting, fishing and camping. At least she stood half a chance in this world turned on its head. She picked her warmest clothes...and layered those. Then she packed a spare set, but just one as she was mindful that she would have to carry everything herself. She searched in the back of her closet for the sleeping bag and small dome tent had bought for the festival a couple years back. She had thought about giving those to the second hand shop dozens of times but now she was glad she had not. She smiled as she pulled out the pocket knife that her parents had given her for her thirteenth birthday. Her dad had that serious look on his face when he told her, "We think you are old enough for this now. But you have to take care of it and use it wisely...just like love and life." She nodded and sighed as the first rays of dawn begin to filter through the drawn curtains. Unlike others in the city, she was not going to loot and stick around trying to fight for what few resources remained. Or wait helplessly in her apartment for some miracle from the government. If they could not manage to save a few thousand people in New Orleans, she sure as hell did not think they could tackle a worldwide collapse like this. No, she was out of here. "I'm going home, Mama and Daddy, " she whispered as she tore open the bag of cat food for her beloved tabby. She opened the window so she could give it what chance it had. She could only hope that like her its natural survival instincts kicked in and kept it from becoming prey to the empty stomachs of men once the food began to run out. *** Jordan fought through the thongs of people outside the police station. He had come here thinking that his military skills might prove useful to help re-establish order in the city that had been his home all his life...except for those lost years where he had gone where and when the Marines sent him. But the sad truth was...there was no help coming...and no order to be found. Well, not the kind worth having anyway. He had just finished speaking with the local police precinct captain. The outlook was bleak. The news was not good, what little of the accurate kind they could get anyway. Short wave radio was all that worked...then only the battery or hand crank operated kind. And figuring out the source of the information was next to impossible. Was it terrorism? Foreign or domestic? Conspiracy theories too abounded. To make matters worse, the police, who had battled inner city gangs to an uncomfortable truce when there was rules, laws and order to be had, were outnumbered and out gunned. They were losing the streets of the city block by block, neighborhood by neighborhood as these criminals took control and established a new order...of their making, with them as kings and turf wars unlike anything anyone could imagine. The man had been honest. As much as he would like to accept Jordan's help it was a death sentence. The man himself stayed only because of his oath to protect and defend. But he was on the verge of calling his own men together, placing the situation squarely before them, and releasing those who wanted or needed to get back to their families. Only he and a few volunteers would stay and do what little they could...and it was little. Too little to be worth his life. Jordan had nodded as he felt the weight of this man's command. He knew that burden, knowing that you are sending good men to their deaths always was a heavy load to bear. He shook the man's hand and wished him the best as he left the building into the early morning sunshine glaring off the snow. How could the day be so beautiful when all hell was breaking out? That irony never failed to make him wonder what perverse power controlled this fucked up world. Cause it sure as hell was not good men like the him and the captain. What now he asked himself? What now? Did he just go back to his tiny run down apartment and hold up? His own code prevented him from joining those who looted and took what they wanted. Some stupid, naïve part of him considered for a moment going underground...becoming a super hero avenging the innocent like in a comic book. But he was just one man...if the police could not stop it all, how could he? Some survival instinct drove him back to his apartment. Where he packed what little he needed, mostly his guns and ammunition, a couple of knives and warm clothes. He might be against looting, but he knew how to live off the land. Bless the Marine Corps for that one too. But the question that still plagued him as he left via the fire escape was...where the fuck was he going? *** Emily cursed...words that her daddy would wash her mouth out with soap if he heard her say. But they were richly deserved. Damn, modern technology for making paper maps virtually obsolete. She might have lived in this city for almost three years but she knew precious little of it. The areas around her work, the neighborhood where she lived and a couple of areas down town. But even those were not the same when you traveled by foot instead of car. Freeways were best avoided. And now she was on the edge of a rougher area of town. Her general sense of direction told her that it was the shortest route south out of the city. But first she had to get through it...and that looked way more difficult than she had anticipated. She could see armed men, obviously not the good guys either, policing the streets on foot and occasionally in cars or trucks, using up what precious fuel remained. The people seemed to scurry and cower out of their way. Emily shook her head. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself. Damn it, she had come to this place seeking to make her way as an actress and model. Her mixed race beauty that had gotten her far in that world was not going to serve her well in this one. She was not going to play the victim though. Play the victim? She smiled as an idea took root in her mind. *** Jordan had barely made it half way across his old neighborhood, heading for the old highway that no one except history buffs had traveled once they built the Interstate. Then he saw them. A group of armed men harassing a woman. An obviously heavily pregnant one too. He might have abandoned the foolish idea of staying in this city and playing hero avenger, but his code prevented him from just walking away and leaving her to be raped. "Fucking honor," he cursed as he looked around to get his bearings. His only hope with the superior force was a surprise hit and run attack. One weighed down with a pregnant woman too. Maybe he should have just stayed with the captain...even then he would have had better odds of surviving than this. He frowned as he saw the glint of metal in the bright sunshine. Then the blood closest the woman was turning bright red as it spurted from the thigh of the man who had been holding her. He moved fast then, knowing that the others would want revenge. Even as he moved he admired the woman's fighting spirit as she fought lose from the man's grasp, turning on the others waving her knife like it stood a chance against their guns. He also had to admire the girl's aim as blood pumped quickly from her attacker's femoral artery...although perhaps she was just lucky. He hoped that luck would hold as he came up behind the first of the half dozen or so thugs. He would not risk the noise of gun fire that would alert the other's to his presence and take away what little edge the element of surprise gave him. Instead he saved ammunition he might need later by knocking the man in the back of the head with the bunt of his gun. He might have felt some shame about such a sneak attack but that shit had no place in a fight where they were so badly over powered. Besides the bastard should live. The next one saw him coming and managed a half scream as his knife sliced through his throat, stopping the rest of his warning. Luckily the man's screams were overpowered by the woman's except for the one other defender making up the outer perimeter. With warning that tiny bit of warning the man did what Jordan would have done himself...pulled his gun. Damn, there went his element of surprise as he raised his own gun and got off a round before his enemy could. A kill shot too...thank you once more to the Corps. Now it was two against two...well, two against...one and a half. Maybe. Although the damned thing fought like a banshee, she was still just a heavily pregnant woman and more liability than asset in this fight. *** Emily had seen the man in her peripheral vision before he even beaned the first guy. In fact when he had first run towards them, she had thought he was another one of them, coming to join the fight. But when he cut the second man's throat it was pretty damn clear...the Calvary had arrived. Now the odds were two and against two...and she was practically giddy with the smell of victory. These men might be toughed and mean but they were not disciplined or trained. This guy obviously was. She had not seen anyone move like that since her daddy...and even he was no where near that fast or good...slowed by the years of life and her mama's good cooking. She was half tempted to make a run for it, high tail it out of there while she left the man to clean up the mess of those last two. But damn Daddy and his code...leave no man behind. She might not have gone down that road but she had been tempted. Hell, she had almost signed the papers. Until the big fight with the man. Damn him and his chauvinistic views. Women could and were Marines. But that fight had taken the air right out of her sails on that one. Instead she had returned to her first love...acting and the stage. And turned her back on her Daddy and his code...or so she had thought until the past few days. Some things a girl just did not forget...and lessons of a lifetime like honor, family and love were top of that list. When all was said and done, her fame and money had been wiped out by a string of ones and zeros but those morals could not be. She watched the man fighting hand to hand, struggling with the one closest to him. The man had been caught in 'shock and awe' as Daddy would call it. He had not had time to get aa shot off as the other man rushed him. Now the one closest to her was standing there. Just standing there with his back to her, waiting with his gun raised for the outcome of the tousle. Without training he could not risk shooting and injuring his friend. But she could not believe her luck...or his stupidity. He had thought her just a woman, helpless and too squeamish to attack. It was not a mistake he would live to make again as her knife found its way into the side of his neck. She pulled it out quickly. There was a loud sucking noise for a second then the spurt of hot, red, viscous liquid caught her right in the eye. She cursed as she stepped blindly back. She heard a gun shot. But the damned shit was too thick had gotten into her eyes until it burned like acid, hot tears trying to wash it away prevented her from seeing it the victor was friend or foe. Then she felt the hand about her upper arm, pulling and dragging her away. She hit out blindly at her assailant...she could not take the chance. Though she tried hard not to go for anything lethal in her incapacitated state. *** He smiled as he deflected the woman's blow. "Hey, it's me...the hero...the idiot that saved your bacon. Or is trying to at least. But right now we need to get the hell out of here or things might get worse. I am sure these shits have friends close by. So how about you trust me for five more minutes until I can get us some place safe." He felt the woman relax inn his grip even before he saw her nod her head or heard the words, "Deal." It was all he took as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her towards the alley he had scouted before running into the fray. He knew the damned place well from his childhood. And what most people did not think about was the drainage pipes that carried rain water to the lake. There was a decent sized one not to far down that alley near the overpass. If they could make it there then everything would be okay...for a while. Damn, even virtually popping pregnant this one did not weigh a thing. Hell, he had carried packs heavier than her. Baby and all. He had to admire a woman that could fight like that...pregnant and all. If... But ifs were like wishes...they simply did not count. He smiled as he covered the last twenty yards to the culvert. Not only would it provide a hiding place but shelter from the wind that was beginning to pick up. Wind that blew her hood back to reveal... Emilee. He shook his head. No, fucking way. It could not be. Damn, the woman was a every man's walking, talking wet dream. With her soft caramel skin and long hair that just begged a man to fist it and pull her back as he kissed those full pink lips until they swelled up even more. The sun off the fucking sun must be getting to him. Blinding him. No fucking way... *** When the man dropped her to her feet, Emily's senses came back to her. This was not Hollywood...damn, why could she not have been stuck in nice warm Los Angeles when this shit happened? But she knew if the gangs were bad her then LA would only be worse. And the distance home over ten times more. Besides what ifs were pointless. Right now it was about making it home...inn one piece. And while she owed this man a debt of gratitude she was no man's door mat. Her Mama could stick to the sweet little submissive shit and play the damsel in distress. She was a fighter...and damn it, the man should know that. She dropped to her knees, searching for snow to help her clear the blood from her eyes. But where he had taken her did not seem to have any. Solid ground? Concrete? She could not tell. "Water. Snow. something so I can clear my damned eyes." But even as she waited for the man's assistance, she fought her way free of one arm of her long coat...okay so fake fur had been a poor choice for stealth's sake...if an excellent one for warmth. She slid the heavy back pack free of one shoulder before putting her arm back into that sleeve and repeating the process on the other. She felt blindly inside of her back pack for a tissue or clothe that would help her to wipe the stuff away before it congealed even more in the freezing weather. "Here," he said as he pressed something wet into her hand. She nodded and said her thanks as she began the task of clearing the man's blood from her face and eyes. Oh my god, this was blood. Real blood. From a man she had killed. She had killed a man today. Not a deer, though those were always bad enough. But a man. Two men. Two men that despite being bad guys were somebody's sons and brothers and fathers? And she had killed them. She tossed the cloth back at the man as she turned her head and vomited what little food was inside of her until her whole body shook with drive heaves and sobs. She was a murderer. Fall of Man Ch. 02 A dozen questions raced like lightening through Jordan's mind. The pack lying discarded on the ground? So she wasn't pregnant after all? Of course, she wasn't. This was Emilee that would have been top news on one of those stupid paparazzi shows. In fact, he could not remember a single guy she had dated. Oh there was always pics of her at events with this one and that one but never anything serious. So if she was not pregnant, why the fuck was the chick puking her guts out? Adrenaline, asshole. She just killed two men. One of the world's top super models had just stuck a knife into two gang bangers. At that moment, Jordan realized just how irreparably fucked the world had become. He remembered his first kill, sometimes too vividly. In late night dreams that seemed more real than reality. But these days what was real anyway? And while he had not puked his guts out then, he had known more than one man who had...good men. Let alone hot, sheltered super models and actresses. Quit being a schmuck and go help the lady, he told himself. But even then it took him a moment to figure what help was in this situation. He wanted to offer sweet words of comfort, promise that everything would be all right, but given the world turned upside down that they found themselves in he knew that would be a lie...and his aunties had taught him better than to lie. In the end he grabbed the cloth that he had given her earlier, rinsed the dirt and blood from and went to her side. She was dry heaving now so he knelt on the cold, hard ground next to her and brushed those thick, ringlets back from that creamy caramel skin. Except it was not. Her face had drained of color, was almost translucent in fact. And there were dark circles under her eyes. But all he could think was...who would have thought that her hair was this soft. His fingers could easily get lost in it for days, a lifetime. He shook himself as he pressed the cloth to her face, slowly washing as much of the drying blood as he could from her face. This was Emilee, he reminded himself. Not for the likes of me. *** Emilee began to come slowly back to reality. A reality that was worse than any of the fucking disaster movies that were her addictions. She forced herself to slow her breathing, used the yoga techniques that she had learned for relaxation to steady her racing heart. She forced a weak smile as she turned to face her rescuer. Her words died on her lips as she got her first real look at the super hero that had evened the impossible odds against her when all hope was lost. He was not handsome exactly. His masculine beauty was much too rough for that term. With dark hair that curled about his average face, it was his eyes that held her, their intensity as he watched her every move. It was a look that frightened her, thrilled her and offered her comfort at the same time. She extended her hand, "I'm Emily." "I know who you are. Question is did those jerks?" His cold words chilled her more than the wind which whipped her coat about her body and seemed to just seep into her bones. "No, no, they did not get a good look at my face. And I used the pack to make them think I was just some poor pregnant chica." She shook off her arm then, "And for the record, you don't know jack shit about me either. No matter what you might have read or heard. So if you think I can offer you a big reward or someone will pay a huge ransom, think again. Even if the banks weren't all closed. I wasn't that big a star." *** Jordan laughed. So she had spunk as Auntie May would call it. Sassy and feisty would have been Aunt Isabelle's choice. He liked spirit himself. And she had it in spades. "Where did you learn to fight like that? That shit was way past any self-defense for movie stars class they must have given you." She jerked the cloth from his hand and finished the job wiping the blood from her face. He was glad to see that a bit of color was returning. "My daddy was a Marine." She paused a moment as she tossed the cloth back to him, "My step-father I guess and is a Marine. Like he says..." "Once a Marine, always a Marine. Semper Fi," he finished for her. He had to admit that it explained a lot. No just her ability to hold her own in battle, but the quick wits to use her pack as camouflage and even the drive that would send a super star like her out into the mess rather than cowering in some penthouse waiting for the Calvary to save her. "So what's your plan? Where you going?" *** Emily studied the man for a long moment before answering. But in the end there was only one solution...they stood a better chance together than she did on her own. He had proved that once already. So she replied honestly. "I'm headed home. My mom and dad have a farm...if you can call it that. In the middle of nowhere in Iowa. About two hundred miles west of here. I figure things will be at least a bit safer there than in the city. And of course, the basics like food, water and sanitation not such a struggle either," she paused and studied him one more time before she continued. "It won't be easy getting there but Daddy taught me to hunt, fish and live off the land as well as how to defend myself. But if you..." she trailed off. For all she knew the man was on his way back to his own family. What if he ended up just slowing her down? Being more of a burden than an asset, although a Marine with his training and skills would probably be an asset even if he came with a wife and three squalling kids. "I mean...it ain't a bad option all things considering. If you want to join me that is. Join forces as it was." Emily knew she was rambling, but she always did. It was one of the few remaining challenges of her condition and it only came out when she was stressed...like now. *** Jordan wanted to laugh. Whether at the way this actress and super star turned into this insecure, sexy and cute woman-child or at fate, or maybe it was Aunt Isabelle acting as his guardian angel, if you believed in such things. But whatever it was, it seemed like the manna from heaven that the preacher used to talk about when those two tough old birds drug his fidgeting ass to church when he was little. A place to go was the one thing he had not figured out...and now the answer was dropped inn his lap. But the sound of shouting and gunfire not too far down that alley meant he would have to delay the celebration and get back to the tough job of surviving long enough to get there. He peaked his head out the cement culvert just enough to get a bead on the enemy. They had just turned down the alley, only three of them this time. And while he and the little lady could probably take them, sometimes discretion really was the better part of valor. "Are you absolutely sure that those guys did not see your face? Recognize you?" he asked his companion and he reached for her upper arm with one hand and her pack on the ground with the other. He had drug her half way down the pipe by the time she answered. "No one can e absolutely sure of anything...especially now. But yeah I'm pretty damned confident. I think they wanted the coat. Thought that it was real fur or maybe they just realized how warm it would be. It was my one mistake in this plan. I should have thought about how much attention it would draw," she replied. And damn...she had a brain too. This was getting better and better. *** "Look where are you taking me? I might not know know this neighborhood or have a map, but my sense of direction tells me we are headed the wrong way." She tried to dig her heels in but there was no stopping this one. If she did not follow, he would probably just scoop her up in his arms and carry her again. Why did that sounds so damned good? "Good girl," he replied and Emily cringed at his choice of words. "I am no one's 'good girl', Mister..." her voice trailed off as she realized how much of her plan she had revealed to a perfect stranger...and even if he was perfect, the fucking Calvary and Super Man rolled all into one, she did not even know his name. "Jordan. Staff Sargent Jordan Michaels, USMC retired," he supplied. "Emily Rogers-Todd, not Emilee please. She was just a character I played sometimes," she said. He did not need to know that she had been playing characters all her life, that she probably always would, and that even know she fought to keep it all inside. She focused and the words to her song came to mind...keep it in, don't let it show, don't let them know. Would this man want to help her if he knew...knew what she was really like? "Glad to know the introductions are over, Ems. Now can you shake that cute ass of yours ass a bit and get a move on. Double time it girl. Because we have three boogies on your tail," he replied. "Yes, Sir," the words sprang from her lips before she could stop them. She dismissed them as nothing but the appropriate response to a higher ranking or in this case more experienced soldier. So why did they cause such a tight knot like a hundred butterflies dancing in her tummy. It was not a question that bore asking at the moment but another one did. "Where are we going?" *** He chuckled, "Before you take me home to meet your folks, I figure it is only polite to return the favor. Such that it is." They had cleared the cover of the culvert now and it was still another two-hundred yards, two football fields to the relative safety of the small wood framed home where he had grown up. And the woman that was all he had left to call family. He slipped out of his fatigue jacket and held it out towards her, "Take this...and hand me your coat. If that is what they wanted, I say we give it to them, with a special surprise." He was pleased at how quickly she obeyed without question, Not only did he like obedient women, but it might just save their lives. "Tuck your hair into the coat, keep your head down and keep walk...slow but steady down this alley. About two hundred yards down on your left you will see a little pink house, don't ask. Just knock and tell Auntie May that Jordan sent you. You got that?" She nodded and he was off to set the trap. At the culvert he turned right, away from their ultimate destination. He did not go far. He wanted them to see it. What had the woman been thinking? This thing screamed money, fake or not. For a smart girl, she sure could be stupid it seemed. If she did something this cray again he would turn her over his knee and spank that cute butt. Woe boy, down, he thought. She is not yours to spank. And even if she was now is not the time for wet dreams and beating off. He placed the coat on the ground so that it looked as much like a person was still inside as he could possible make it. Then he reached into his pack for one of the few flares that he had taken for an emergency. He would have preferred a grenade or even a quarter size piece of C4, but sometime you had to make do with what you had. He lit the end of the damned then and then hid it and the butane lighter inside the coat. In all probability, the damned thing would just fizzle out before the bastards found it. But maybe the coat would send them down the wrong way and buy them some time. And if Auntie Isabelle really was looking out for him as a guardian angel then the damned thing would flare up and burn them when they lifted the coat, and if there was a god...then it would be enough to explode the damned lighter too and blow the bastards to hell. And if wishes were horses then beggars would ride, he thought as he headed off straight ahead, laying a false trail that he hoped would buy them a night. Just one night. It was all they could afford. If he was going to keep Auntie May safe. Hell, he should not even be taking her there, but what choice did he have? What fucking choice did he have? *** Emily stood outside the backdoor for the little pink house. I could see the porch through the thin screen. A swing, a table and dozens of pots with mostly dead or dying plants gave this place a homey feel to it. It reminded her of her mother's green house where she started the spring vegetables in pots even before Christmas. She wondered if she would find rosemary and thyme among those pots somewhere too. She tapped lightly on the screen door and it rattled on its latch, but the thing held on the inside. She saw a curtain pulled back for a moment. Once upon a time, she bet that the porch light would have come on to help identify friend or foe. But without power that was no longer possible. Emily was not sure if the mysterious Auntie May would open the door to a stranger and she remembered what Jordan had said. She was about to raise her hand to knock again when the wooden door opened just a crack. "Yes, who are you? Do I know you?" came a frail and almost rusty voice from the other side of the door. "I'm Emily and no, you don't know me, Auntie May. But Jordan said to tell you that he sent me," she crossed her fingers and almost prayed. "Jordan? Jordan sent you? Where is he? Where is my boy?" the woman that opened the door was even more frail than her voice sounded. She had a walker and each step seemed to make her wrinkled face grimace in pain. But she forced her feet one in front of the other. Made them carry her to the door and when she got there, she raised knurled, arthritic hands to push up the latch. "Come in, child. It is freeing out there and where is Jordan?" Emily looked over her shoulder. She did not have an answer for the old woman and she wished for her sake as much as Auntie May's that she knew. Why did it matter so damned much...she had just met the man? *** Jordan looked over his shoulder one more time. No sign of them. He was just about to double back, being more careful this time to hide footprints...ones he did not want them to see. When he heard the explosion, "Well, I'll be damned. Chalk one up to you, Auntie Isabelle and thanks. If you don't mind sticking around a bit longer, like until we get to Iowa, I'd appreciate it," he chuckled. But he was not foolish enough to return the way he had come or to leave a trail for their friends to follow. He knew that he had simply bought them a few more hours. A chance, a small one, to regroup and plan before heading out again at first light. But right now, daylight was fading fast. Damned winter this far north, when days are short and nights are long...and that only worked if you had a good woman by your side. He thought about a cascade of light brown ringlets that fell about a beautiful face. Hair that was softer than silk and skin that was softer still. But if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride...he reminded himself as he headed back towards the only home he had ever know...and the one person that he would regret leaving behind. *** "I am not going," said the petite blond, her hands folded across her chest emphasized her tits and the chain that disappeared between them. "Oh yes, you are woman. If I have to hog tie you and carry you the whole damned way over my shoulder. We are getting out of here. It is not safe." The great bear of a man with more silver than brown in his salt-n-pepper short hair towered over her. But still she stood her ground. He reached out and lifted the chain, dog tags that nestled hidden between her tits appeared in his fingers. He caressed them lovingly, "These say I am charged with your safety and protection. And that comes first in my book." She jerked the metal pieces from his fingers, "We agreed...only one thing ever came before that...my daughter. And I am not leaving here without Emily. I don't care what you say, I know in here that she will find a way. She will make it home...and I'm going to be here when she does." The woman half cried and half shouted as she thumped her fist on her chest. The man gathered her in his arms. His big hands held her head against his chest as she cried as all of it, all of the fear and anxiety came flooding out. "Damn it, woman. Our daughter, we agreed to that too you know. And I trained that girl. If you are feeling with your mother's heart then I am thinking with a father's head. And when our girl gets here if we aren't here, the cabin is just where she will head." He lifted her face to his. The woman that he had loved for over a decade. The one that thought she came with more baggage than any man could handle. He had shown her then that his shoulders were broad enough and he would now too. Just as he had then...the giant oak bent towards the light of its sun. "One week, we can give Emily one more week, Sara. If she is not home by then we go to the cabin. But trust me, sweetheart. There or here, our little girl knows her way home. And she has the skills to take care of herself." Fall of Man Ch. 03 Emily paced over to the door and pulled back the curtain one more time as Auntie May droned on about Jordan. The man it seemed was more like a son to her than a great-nephew. She had been there less than half an hour and already she knew that the man took his first step when he was just eight months old, had graduated high school as valedictorian with letters in football, baseball and track, and oh, yes, he had lost his virginity when he was fifteen to girl who was a senior and a cheerleader, but she had broken his heart. Emily had smiled at that one, trying to imagine any woman having that kind of control over the man she had met only briefly but felt like she knew for years. She did not want to worry the sweet old woman, but it was almost pitch black out there now and even Emily was beginning to worry about the guy. He was good, no doubt, but even Marines lost battles occasionally. Especially when they were out gunned or ambushed. And in the world as it was now, the good guys were sorely outnumbered. It was more than possible that even with his skills, the gang with its greater numbers had prevailed. What then? What would she do? She might have just met the old woman, but there was no way she could just leave her here. But how she would get the woman with her walker all the way to Iowa was beyond her. She let the curtain drop and fall back into place as she turned to face the old woman. She plastered her best 'everything will be all right' smile into place, but feared that even her acting skills fell short of this one. "Aunt May," she began...but she was cut off by a soft thud from the utility room, just off the kitchen behind them. It was automatic as she shoved the older woman behind her and reached for the knife in her jean's pocket. She had just flipped the blade open and was crouched to attack when he appeared in the door way. "Jordan," sang the frail voice behind her. Emily relaxed her stance and allowed the woman to rush past her and embrace the man. *** Jordan nodded at her as the woman started to fret and worry over him, "What were you thinking, Jordan? It is cold out there. You should have come with your friend, not left the two of us to worry about what mischief you were up to, boy." He leaned down and brushed a light kiss over the wrinkled forehead. "I am sorry, Auntie May. We had a bit of trouble on the way here. I had to take of some things before I could. Sorry if I worried you." It never ceased to amaze him how this woman could make him feel like a naughty ten year old. But the woman that smiled knowingly across the room made him feel anything but ten years old, but very naughty all the same. "Is everything all right?" she asked quietly. He nodded as Auntie May stepped back. "You two need food. Let me make us some supper," she smiled. But that smile seemed weaker, less radiant, less peaceful than it once had. He noticed the slowing of her once sprit step too, as if each one was a sheer act of will alone. "I'll cook, Auntie May," he offered. "You just sit down and chat with Emily," he smiled with far more confident than he felt at the moment. Despite being safe inside Auntie May's, he alone was protector for two females, one of them old and sick, and they were surrounded by the enemy. He was certain that he had been in worse situations but he could not think of them just then. What is more, he knew that the police or no one else would come to the rescue. This new world order really sucked. *** 'And he cooks too,' Emily wanted to laugh hysterically at it all. But there was nothing funny about the situation they were in. Nothing funny about the world in which they suddenly found themselves. Had it been just two weeks ago that she had sought her parents' opinions about a move to Hollywood? How could so much change so quickly? But without power or telephones, they had been thrown back into the Dark Ages it seemed. Except the feudal lords were drug dealers and gangs. The older woman was staring at her. Emily smiled as best she could. "So how do you know my boy?" Emily was not certain exactly what to say, so she was glad when a deep voice from the kitchen responded, "We sort of ran into one another out there as she was trying to get out of the city, Auntie May." The older woman nodded and her eyes travelled up and down Emily's body until she shifted uncomfortably from side to side, "She one of your nicer looking strays, I can say that much for you, boy." Emily was not certain how to respond to that, so she dropped her eyes to the floor and whispered, "Thank you, I think." "So where you off to with my boy, girl?" the older woman demanded. Emily looked back up and noticed that the woman's frail arms were crossed over her chest as if pondering it all. "My parents have a farm a few hundred miles from here in Iowa. I figured that would be safer than staying in the city." "Humph, anything is safer than staying in this city. Police done turned the whole place over to those ruffians out there. Jordan used to play with some of dem boys when they were little. But they can't even be called human no more. No morals. No nothing. Just pure evil," the woman looked up as the young man brought a tray of food in. "Sorry, Auntie May, it may not be as good as your cookin' but all I could find was some beans to warm up," he apologized as he handed a bowl to her. She took it with trembling fingers. He turned towards her and held out another bowl. Emily took it was a smile, "Thanks." "Don't thank me until you taste it," he joked but she could hear the stiffness in his voice as she walked over to the couch that the woman motioned for her to sit on. He joined her and they ate in silence. He was right: dinner was nothing special just a can of baked beans with a bit of ketchup, mustard and touch of brown sugar to try and flavor them a bit. But these days flavor was not that important. If you had food to eat, that was all that mattered. She was bringing her last bite to her mouth when the woman pinned them both with one of those stares, "So what is the plan, boy? How you getting to the lady's farm?" *** It was the question that Jordan had been asking himself since he heard that explosion. They had drawn attention to themselves, hell, they had virtually declared war on the gangs that controlled the neighborhood where he had grown up. Auntie May was right, some of the guys might have once been his friend. But no more. They had taken a different path...the wrong path. But he knew that by killing them today, it made getting way tomorrow even more difficult. And he had Auntie May to think about too. He could not leave her here alone in this house to face those men's retribution...or to freeze before spring. On the other hand, she could not just walk out of here the way he and Emily had intended to. "Is Ole Betsy still running? Is there any gas in her?" he held out what slim hope he had. His aunt shook her grey head, "She runs, but you know what crappy mileage you get with her. Even if her tank was full, which it ain't, it would only get you half way there...or less. And these days, driving is like putting out a neon sign...rob and murder me. Of course, she is yours if you want her. But the two of you stand a better chance on foot...or maybe your old bicycle in the garage?" He shook his head, "Those won't do for you, Auntie May..." The old woman pounded her frail fist on the arm of the chair, "I ain't go nowhere, boy. This is my home, has been all my life and I am staying here." He looked at his aunt, the one person he had left on this planet. He did not like it but there was no other choice, he turned towards the woman next to him. "Emily, we will find you a new coat, give you what supplies we can, then tomorrow I will get you safely out of the city." He smiled to his aunt, "I am sorry that we cannot do more, but if Auntie May is staying then..." "You gonna make me get up from this chair and hit you over the head with my walking stick, boy? I said I is staying. You are getting this girl back to her Ma and Pa. And I ain't having no argument bout it," she yelled as she shook her fist in the air, her wrinkled face turning pink with the exertion. "Auntie May, I can't just leave you here to..." his throat tightened at the very thought of it. He could not force the words out his mouth no matter how hard he tried. "To die?" his aunt said the words that he could not. "Yes, boy, that is just what you are going to do." Her face softened then, she took on that radiance she had each Sunday morning as she sang in the choir at church. She looked ten, no, twenty, years younger in that instant. "Listen to me, child. This old woman has lived too long." He saw giant tears fill her soft eyes. They began to slide down her face. He felt his throat tighten even more. He knew he could not speak, he could barely breath at the weight of her words. "Way too long, boy. Look at the world out there. It is madness. Men fighting men for a scrap of bread. Mama's stealing from their own neighbors just to keep their chilluns warm. It ain't right. It ain't right," she shook her head and wiped the tears from her cheek. "This world is no place for an old woman, son. I am tired. I been tired for years. But I had you to look after." She smiled softly as she looked to the woman next to him, "That's your job now, girly. You promise me that you gonna take care of my boy. Look after him the way Izzy and I done. You promise?" Jordan watched tears track down Emily's soft brown cheeks. His aunt was not being fair to the woman. He could take care of himself. He had been doing it for over a decade. And this guilt trip was not necessary. But if it would set his aunt's mind to rest...give her peace...what did a false promise matter? Their eyes met and his pleaded without words with her...'just say it.' She nodded her soft, too damned soft, head of curls that framed her beautiful face and made her look like an angel in the dim moonlight that was filtering through the windows. "I promise, Auntie May," she whispered. His chest tightened even more at her words. They sounded so real, so genuine. Hell, they sounded as binding as wedding vows. But they are just for show, just to relieve an old woman's mind, he reminded himself. This was Emilé after all...super model, actress...not for the likes of battered old soldiers and orphans. He tore his eyes away from her face and turned back towards his aunt. He saw the relief in the woman's face. "So, boy, how we gonna do this? How we gonna get the two of you outta the city and me take out as many of those bastards as I can before I go to meet my maker and see my sister?" Jordan wanted to swallow his tongue. Where had his Auntie May gone? Bastards? He could not remember the last time he had heard her say 'heck' or 'tarnation' let alone a word like that. And the idea of his kind old aunt killing someone? It was unthinkable...or it had been...until all this. Now? In this world, nothing made sense. He inhaled as he saw the sad, harsh truth in his aunt's logic. This was no place for a woman like her. It hurt him to just to think it. His chest felt like someone was squeezing his heart until it might burst. But she was right...she would slow them down, she would take up valuable resources, food and water they did not have, she could not pull her own weight...and for what a few more months, a couple of years of life. What kind of life would it be? He had studied history at college. He remembered admiring the way that the elderly Vikings would walk out naked into the snow during hard years when there was not enough food. So that their children and grandchildren might have more to eat, to survive. He knew that was what his aunt was doing. And as much as he admired her like he had those Vikings, it did not make it any easier. He wanted to argue, to shout and rage at Fate. He wanted to refuse and hog tie her, bodily carry her to safety if he had to. But that would be wrong. He got up and walked over to her chair, he knelt in front of her and lifted her frail hands to his lips. Her skin was paper thin, she had dozen of deep purple bruises on her hands and arms. Her fingers trembled in his. But when he looked into those eyes, he saw determination. He smiled, he knew where he got it all from. This woman...and Auntie Isabel. They had made him strong. That had taken a broken and battered little boy into their home and hearts...and they had made him a strong man of character as much as the Marines had. How could he let her down now? "Let me think on it tonight," he smiled weakly as he kissed that weathered and gnarled hand. She pulled her hand out of his and patted his cheek, "You do that, boy. And make it good. I want to go out of this world with a bang...and take as many bad guys with me as I can." His aunt as the hero in white hat from some old western was still not something he could see, but he nodded reassured anyway. "One more thing, son, I don't want my things falling into their hands either. They's is a group...the old neighborhood watch. They can't do much against these hoodlums with their guns, but what food and blankets and such that I got, I want us to get to them. Plan that too." He nodded. Now there was his auntie. Always thinking of others. She struggled to stand then and he placed his hands under her elbows and helped her gingerly up. "I guess that is all for now then, boy. I am tired and we have a big day tomorrow. I'll be saying good night," she smiled towards the young woman, who had been silent this whole time. He noticed then that tears were streaming unchecked down her cheeks still. And his chest tightened even more. "It was a pleasure meeting you, sweetie. You remember one thing, this old woman is holding you to that promise. I'll be looking down on you so you better keep it," she smiled as Emily nodded her head and whispered, "Yes, Ma'am," once more. But his aunt was not finished with her surprises this night, "You keep the girl with you in your old room. Without the furnace, you'll need to body heat in this cold. And besides that way she is close...just in case the bad guys find us before we find them. You get her out of here safe then, you hear me." Jordan nodded his head but said a silent pray that it did not come to that. "Yes, Auntie May." The old woman smiled that beatific one again and leaned up to brush a soft kiss on his cheek. She proceeded to tap that same cheek with her frail hand, "But no hanky-panky, you hear me?" Jordan laughed, "Yes, Ma'am, you have my word." "I better, boy," she said as she nodded towards Emily. "Good night to you too, my dear." Then she hobbled slowly on the walker towards her room down the hall. *** Emily sat on the side of the twin bed in the dark room that she was to share with this man, this stranger. Her mind was in complete and utter turmoil. Not since she was a little girl had she battled this level of overload. So much had happened in one day...she had killed a man, no, two men. She had run into a real life hero, who had saved her ass. She was hiding from men who wanted to kill her...or worse. And the sweetest little old lady in the world wanted to die and take the bad guys with her? Oh, and she had let Miss Fluff-Fluff go. Losing her cat might seem inconsequential against all the rest...and maybe it was to other people. But Emily's brain had never worked the same way theirs did. And right now, her brain was on overload. Her skin crawled as if a million tiny bugs were just beneath it trying to eat their way out. Even the darkness seemed painfully bright. And she could hear each and every sound in stereo as they drifted through the walls. She tried to pay attention, see if they were in any danger...well, if they had been discovered. Of course, they were in danger. The whole fucking world was in danger. Nothing made sense. What was more, the very idea of sharing a bed with him...with anyone was terrifying. Emily had never slept with someone. Never. She could barely stand to touch people. Her mother had claimed that was the hardest part of raising a daughter with autism...that Emily almost never hugged her, or held her hand, or kissed her. But now she was expected to sleep next to another human being. Oh, she understood the reason. Conserving body heat. It made sense. Might even save their lives at some point. But that did not make it any less scary. Any less daunting. How would she manage it? How could she handle having someone in her space? He entered the room as quietly as he could, but still too loud for her sensitive hearing. "Everything seems okay," he said as he stripped out of the jacket he was wearing. He left on his shirt and jeans as he kicked off his boots. He came to sit on the bed next to her then. His shoulders were slumped. Even in the dark, she could see the fine lines of worry creasing his brow and around his mouth. "You can't let her do it," she whispered into the darkness. He sighed heavily, "We have no choice. I have spent the past couple of hours trying to think of something...anything...another option. But she is right. Damn it, why does she always have to be right?" His shoulders sagged even more and Emily heard the soft catch in his breath. Without thinking, she reached out and put her arms around his shoulders. "It will be all right," she lied. Whether to him or herself she was not sure. He nodded as he turned pulled back the quilt that covered the bed, "Get in. We need as much sleep as we can get. Tomorrow is a big day." Panic welled up inside of her. She wanted to kick and scream like she had as a little girl. She wanted to run. She wanted to hide under the bed where everything was smaller and darker...and always felt safer somehow. But she knew that she could not. Safe place...water falls, rocks warmed by the sun, birds singing...she repeated the mantra in her head. She tried to visualize her special place near her father's mountain cabin. If she could go there in her head, she could handle anything. She climbed into bed and scooted as far as she could against the wall. He got in after her and pulled the quilt up to cover them both. "Good night," he said as he turned his back to her and clung to the other side of the twin bed. They were not quite touching...if only they could stay that way all night then everything might be all right, she thought as the darkness swept her away to dreams of crashing water and warm sunlight.