Crowns and Cabals Read online

Fear kept us in line, and fear kept us working around the clock. I once loved my job. It was my dream. After graduating from Massachusetts Institute of Technology, I was hired by one of the most exciting tech companies in the world as a software analyst. More training, more work, more promotions, and I became a director with two dozen engineers working under me. My salary was enormous. I had an amazing home, luxury car, and even had access to the corporate jet.

  Everything changed. Each day since the first mushroom cloud erupted my job came closer to resembling a work camp. No breaks. Lunch was eaten at one’s desk. The food court, fitness center, and the company spa were indefinitely closed. Today we were tossed a bone. An announcement was made allowing us to leave the building at the end of the regular work day. Eight hours of work felt like part-time. The joyous occasion and random generosity was brought on by the scheduled broadcast of the Vice President of the United States. Tonight he would brief America on what was going on.

  When I got home, Raphael looked his usual vagrant self. He was unshaven, in the same clothes he wore for the last five days, and reeked of body odor and booze. An open flame could have set him ablaze. He wanted to die, but I wasn’t ready to lose him.

  My sister, my parents, and the few other relatives I had were probably dead. Raphael was it. My brother-in-law moved up to my brother, at least in my mind. Last week, I came home to an almost dead Raphael. He passed out in the middle of the bathroom floor in a puddle of piss and vomit. He was choking.

  Damn that mother fucker! I turned his body over so that he could throw up again. Somehow, I lugged all two hundred twenty plus pounds of his six and half foot frame into the shower and blasted cold water on his long, crumpled body. Nothing changed afterward. Going by the smell he emitted throughout the room, he hadn’t taken another shower since.

  Raph’s insistence on checking out and getting drunk all day was taking its toll. In desperation I took away his cash, ATM and credit cards. Lack of funds didn’t stop him from getting more alcohol. He later confessed to a first-rate Hard-Knox education passed on from his late grandfather. George King taught him how to steal in order to survive, but Raphael stole so that he could die.

  I came home early from work, although Raph didn’t seem to notice. As usual, he was inebriated. Calmly and quietly, I took his drink and his bottle and poured them down the drain. Then I whipped up a half-assed dinner and turned on Channel Four, WBNX, the only station allowed to air.

  “Raph, you need to sober up. Tonight’s the night. Steele himself told all of us to go home for this broadcast. Maybe a world truce?”

  “Wish I had a drink to hear all of this bullshit. Wonder which heads of state are even alive,” he said. “Notice how the vice president is speaking and not the president? He must be dead as well.”

  “Stay tuned, right? Hey, next time you go stealing booze, can you get us some steak and potatoes, maybe some shrimp and lobster? Hell, any kind of food would be good. Aren’t you getting hungry for real food? Man shall not live by booze alone.”

  “Ah, the Bible, right? Funny. Speaking of miracles, you haven’t thrown me out on my ass yet.” Raphael wore a guilty look on his face as he sipped the last Diet Coke. He looked me in the eyes and said, “Oh Jax, I’ve been the guest from hell.”

  “I guess the end of the world has that effect on some people. Last week you scared the shit out of me. You could have died. Just stop drinking so much. We’ve got to pull ourselves together in case.”

  “In case what?”

  “In case this is not the end. In case this is just the beginning.”

  Raphael sighed and rolled his eyes. “My grandfather, George, you would have loved him, anyway, he warned me about this. We should just kill ourselves now. Get it over with before…”

  “Before what?” I asked. He was still very drunk.

  “It doesn’t matter. You hear from your folks?” I shook my head. Raphael’s brown eyes teared up. I knew he loved them like his own family. “Okay then. I will steal some good food for you. Booze for me and food for you. And it will be something gourmet and expensive, since you’re such a nice host.”

  I just shook my head in disgust. Maybe he would snap out of this road to self-destruction. The colored bars on Channel Four finally went away. A stage with a podium and a United Nations flag hung behind it filled the television screen. A few seconds later, Vice President Al-Basaam walked onto the stage. He looked a decade older than his forty-nine years. His salt and pepper black hair was now full-blown gray. The bags underneath his eyes were a deep purplish-brown. A woman stood on the main floor. As soon as the vice president spoke, her hands signed his words. I turned up the volume.

  Ladies, gentlemen, children of the United States of America, ladies, gentlemen, children of the world, it gives me great displeasure to tell you that President Zanotti was in Washington D.C. when the city was destroyed. Although we are not certain what happened, his whereabouts are unknown. So I am here today as your messenger. You have lived in the dark for the last forty-six days. These days have been the darkest days this planet has ever seen. Some of you already know that the world has become much smaller. North America alone has lost sixteen of her cities and tens of millions of her people. Europe has lost fifteen cities. China has lost twenty cities. Russia has lost fourteen cities. South America has lost twenty-one cities. India has lost eleven cities. Numerous islands and parts of Australia are gone. Half, yes half, of what used to be the Middle East and Africa are also gone.

  Vice President al-Bassam looked behind him as a white screen was lowered next to the U.N. flag. A few seconds later an updated world map projected onto the screen.

  You all know this map. It’s the world forty-seven days ago.

  He pointed to the screen. A new photo of the world was up on the screen. Several sections were colored in red.

  This is the world as of today. That is, if all of us stop right now. The red sections of the map were annihilated with nuclear warheads. The impact plus the radiation… He paused. Tears streamed down his face. He wiped them away and took a deep breath. Estimates of three billion to three and half billion people are dead. We don’t know how many more will die during the war’s aftermath. There’s thermal radiation and nuclear winter…We just don’t know the after-effects of the devastation, but there will be more, many more. So that totals over one third of the world’s total population and counting. I am not here to lecture.

  This war began as a religious war between two different and opposing religions and cultures within the Middle East. Allies of the west and allies of east were quickly sucked in from around the world. Now we don’t have a world. I shouldn’t say that. We still have a world, but it must be a very different one than it is at the moment if it is to survive, if we are to survive.

  We have to change. There is no place for intolerance. There is no place for nationalism. And yes, there is no place for religion. We, and I mean those of us who are still alive and unaffected by radiation, must unify as a whole if we are to rebuild.

  In the next few days, world leaders such as the French vice president, German chancellor, English prime minister and Prince of England, Columbian president, Prince of Saudi Arabia, Japan’s prime minister, World Trade Organization’s director-general, U.N.’s secretary-general, Russian and Chinese governors of the International Monetary Fund, among other key world, finance, business, communications, and technology leaders of the world will be meeting at a secret location. We, with the help of what is left of the United Nations, will be drafting a new government, a post-war reconstruction plan, and global security for the living.

  Together, in the name of peace, we will begin a new civilization, disarm all missiles, and forgive. But these are just words. Our existence is up to you. Are you finished with all of the death and destruction? Are you sick of living in fear?

  Most of you have lost loved ones. I lost my wife of twenty-one years. She was in New York City at the wrong time. My eldest son Fadi was in London at the wrong time. At least my two da
ughters were spared. I am beyond grateful. I know some of you have lost your whole family and all of your friends. Some of you have lost your homes and your wealth. You might be wishing you were one of the ones who were taken. Death might even seem like a gift at this point.

  Again, the vice president paused and wiped the tears from his face.

  I completely understand. The thought has crossed my mind as well. I beg you to try and get through another day. Tomorrow, I will beg you to get through another day. The magnitude of this war is incomprehensible. We all lost. There are no victors. But remember, you are not the only ones who lost. You are not alone in your darkest hour. We need each other more than ever. Rebuilding the world will take hard, grueling work from everyone. May we lean on each other for strength and treat each other with kindness.

  The next few weeks, maybe months will get confusing, chaotic, and hopeless. Perhaps even worse than it is now. The skies are already gray. They will darken to black. True daylight will take weeks, months, maybe even years. And in the darkness, some will prey on others.

  Lawlessness will be unacceptable. We must help each other and not hurt each other. I implore all of you to hang in there. Soon we will have rule of law, prosperity, opportunity, and peace. Starting tonight, this station’s twenty-four hour broadcast and a few entertainment channels will be restored. Soon Internet and all phone usage across the world will be available. As your acting president, I swear to make this horrifying transition as quick and easy as possible.

  There is some good news in light of this destruction. Agendas and resolutions were drafted decades ago in response to creating a sustainable development. I hope I answered some of your questions. All of you have many more. But this will have to do for now. I don’t have all of the answers. None of us do. I will speak again. Good night.

  The last part of the broadcast aired drone footage of some of the major cities that were hit. Nothing was left, just fire, ashes and rubble.

  Chapter Four

  Raphael

  “That’s it? That’s fucking it? He basically told us nothing!” I bellowed.

  “What are you talking about? One third of the world is gone. All of the cities, my God…Did you see them all? London and New York City are ashes.”

  “What did he say? Religion was the cause of all this bullshit? You do realize that there will be complete chaos. You got a gun?” She looked confused, as if she really believed all of that ‘hang in there’ and ‘lean on me’ shit. “Guess not. You’re right about one thing. I drink too much and you need me. And I need you. Put on a pot of coffee and I’ll take a shower. Tonight’s going to be a long one. I’ll need to get us some supplies other than my usual rot-gut moonshine.”

  “You’re going stealing? I don’t have a gun, but I got some pepper spray and a Taser. You think there will be looting? There hasn’t been any looting since the first missile.”

  “Did you and I hear the same speech? The Prince of England? The vice president of France? Geez, look who gave the speech-our fucking VP. Don’t you get it? A good half of the world’s leaders are dead. That should not be! They all got secret bunkers and shit! This was a takeover, Jax. The VP looked nervous, fucking nervous. He’s probably next. That speech looked forced, as if someone else wrote it.”

  “Well, doesn’t every politician have a professional speech writer?”

  “Yeah, but c’mon. He’s doing someone else’s bidding. He alluded to some big changes...Un-American changes. The speech was meant to settle us all down. Religion. That really insults my journalistic intelligence. How stupid does he think we are? C’mon. Israel has been at it with the entire Middle East since post World War II. Jax, think. This was a culling and now it will be a power play.”

  “I thought you were a reporter, not a conspiracy theorist.”

  “A conspiracy theory is only an idea that can’t be proved. The idea can’t be proved, because the elite inner circle destroys all of the evidence. Oh, and then no one knows who the inner circle is.

  “My grandfather George preached skepticism. Twenty years at CWBN taught me firsthand that our news can be cherry-picked or out-and-out manufactured. It happened all the time. I’d get a great lead on a news story, and for one reason or another I’d be told to drop it. Other stories that were not the most legit would be trumpeted over and over per the demands of the network. At first I thought it was about ratings, and played the game. I kept telling myself that most of the news was true. I’d feel a little better on pay day, so I looked the other way. Aysa was the one who had moral trouble. The baby gave her an out. She said she would never quit working, but thought about getting out of the news business. She, too, questioned our station. A colleague of hers said that our station produced the closest thing to news compared to all the other stations in the country. She told Aysa that WBNX was outright propaganda. Look who’s left. WBNX. No, conspiracy theory is not always a theory, Jax. Sometimes it’s a fact that’s missing evidence.”

  “Raph, here’s some coffee. Sober up, okay? One-third of the planet is wiped out and you’re spouting bullshit right-wing loon stuff? What’s the underlying goal of the inner circle? World domination? Aren’t you a fucking liberal?”

  “I was whatever my network paid me to be. Political ideas never mattered. It was a way to keep us apart, keep us from seeing what was happening. Globalization has been the goal for who knows how long. My grandfather called it New World Order.”

  “How drunk are you? So it’s not the liberals or the conservatives. Is it the Illuminati? We have been on the edge of nuclear devastation for decades. It was just a matter of time for this to happen.”

  “Well, laugh as you may, but VP Al-Bassam certainly gave us some hints that America will not be America as we know it anymore. Listen, Jax, you’ve been sitting behind a computer for far too long. Fear plus lack of authority equals chaos. It’s like a math formula or something.”

  “Maybe, Raphael. Time will tell. I can’t help but wonder. Fogle has been working us to death in jamming up the Internet, the satellites, social media, some of the phones, and who knows what else. Censorship is now secured.”

  Once the coffee was done brewing, I poured us each a cup. “Soon there will be pandemonium. We need to grab all of the supplies that we can get. I’ve been hitting the local Walmart for booze. It’s a soft target. You need to come with me. Grab some backpacks, big purses, and get that Taser and pepper spray.”

  The coffee and shower sobered me up. Filled with regret for being a complete slug over the last several weeks, I was determined to redeem myself. Tonight would give us a glimpse of the public reaction to the VP’s speech.

  We drove past the Walmart a few minutes before ten o’clock. The store had been very busy over the last few weeks, but a civilized kind of busy. With exception to milk and bread, the Brookline Walmart somehow replenished its shelves. Stealing liquor was easier than getting drunk.

  At the late shopping hour, the parking lot was full. I pulled into one of the last possible spaces in the back row. People were everywhere, determined to shop as if it was Black Friday with door buster TVs and gold jewelry. Gold. My grandfather’s words rang through my head-gold would be the only currency to hold its worth.

  “Jaxie, we can’t go in together. Just shadow me. If someone appears too interested in my shopping, then sneeze or cough or something.”

  She nodded as we walked in. I expected to see long lines that ended at the back of the store. Instead, I saw no lines, just people throwing whatever food that was on the shelves into their carts and rolling out the door as if it was the Apocalypse. And then I remembered it was the Apocalypse.

  The dynamics of the crowd intensified by the second. Some of the store’s employees were stunned. Their bodies were frozen, making it even easier to pick the store clean. Other employees who wore their store polo uniform shirts were joining the rest of us in the frenzy.

  The night was the beginning of a free-for-all, downright looting, humanity at its worst. The stealing escalated i
nto screaming, pushing, and threats. Even a show of knives emanated from the dairy section.

  I looked at Jaxie with encouragement. She needed food, so I headed for the meat. Nothing was left. Next, I bee-lined towards the frozen food aisle. There wasn’t much of a selection, so I jammed some frozen lasagnas and fried chicken strips into my backpack. Jaxie’s pale face lightened to a shade of chalk white. Again, I looked at her and smiled. She stuffed up her backpack with frozen vegetables, waffles, and hash browns. Aisle by aisle, we took what was left, as did everyone in the store. Police were outside, but they seemed more interested in a fight that broke out by the shopping carts.

  Despite my promise to Jaxie, I dove into the liquor aisle and grabbed one of the only bottles left on the shelves, Maker’s Mark. Both of our backpacks were loaded. I shoved candy bars, power bars, and breakfast bars down my pants as we headed towards the door.

  The tension in the air was thick enough to slow my stride. Crowds pushed each other to get through the entrance. A tall, white, bearded man emerged out of nowhere and grabbed Jaxie’s backpack while pushing her to the ground. I quickly zapped him with her Taser and then took our backpack from him. Jaxie sprung back up.

  “Run, Jaxie! We’ve got to get the hell out of here!”

  As we darted in and out of parked cars, sounds of flares and gunshots echoed from the store. Was this just happening in Brookline? Or was there looting within every city? My heart sank. This was the beginning to the end.

  Chapter Five

  Jaxie

  The chaos of the night kept me up for several hours of the wee morning. I contemplated calling in sick for work, but then wanted to hear what my colleagues were planning to do. I should have been thankful. I was one of the few people left in the world who still had a job and an income. Most people had no idea where or when their next paycheck would come. Questions mounted as I watched the normally quiet street through my window.