30 Days of Fiction: 3

The year was 2035 when the sun spewed out it's leathery tendrils into the oblivion of space. Scientists reported that there was a 60% chance of missing earth but they were wrong. Earth was hit with so much energy and radiation that all electrical systems went out in a matter of minutes. Food, transportation, banking, medical and every other life sustaining system was offline and people panicked. Riots, wars and complete economic and social chaos took over the once technologically advanced and thoroughly connected planet. Within months millions died. Within years the population was no more than a few hundred thousand souls, dispersed across the continents in small communities.

John lived in one of these communities off the coast of what was once called California but now did not have a name or boundary or government. Early one morning John was sitting on his small boat casting a net into the bay when he heard a shot ring out. It didn't come from the shore so he looked out into the foggy sea and after a moment he saw a large vessel break the fog's tattered shell. It was only a few hundreds yards away and on the bow John could see men holding torches and rifles. More shots started to ring out and when one hit the water only a few feet away from John's boat he began to row even faster.

He made it to the shore and began to running up the sandy hill toward the mansions on the hill. When he arrived at the first door he knocked hard and fast. In a few moments someone could be heard on the other side clambering down the stairs and then the clambering stopped. Then, suddenly the door swung open.

John looked inside to see a man hiding behind a barricade made of car doors stacked up fifteen feet from the entrance pointing a black rifle at him.

The old man bellowed,"what the fuck do you think your doing banging on my door? You better fuck right off."

"Hank, it's me. John," John yelled as he took cover beside the door. "Goddammit! We've got a hostile boat coming in fast with at least twenty men. We have to move!" Josh said looking in to make sure Hank understood. Hank looked at him, nodded and got out from behind his barricade and started back up the stairs as John bolted toward another mansion next door. This one bigger than the last.

John managed to get to the front door before the sound of the alarm gong started ringing from Hank's balcony. John reached the door and knocked hard and fast but this time it opened slowly and he was greeted by a blond woman who, if it weren't for the slightly burned state of most of her skin could have been a model had the world not ended.

"We have to move. Men are coming from the sea. At least twenty," John said rushing past the his wife into the living room. Just then two teenage boys came rushing down the stairs, each with a rifle and a concerned look. "We're going to need the big one," John said when he saw his sons and then walked up to what should have been a fridge and opened the hollowed out husk of an appliance and pulled out a massive fully automatic, belt fed machine gun.

"Barricade the doors and let's get to the roof," he said looking at his wife and she immediately closed the door, locked the standard locks and then barred it with a large black metal rod. Then she pulled the string hanging down and another large metal door came down, with a thud, covering the first door. There was a shotgun resting against the side wall and she grabbed it and sat behind a turned over table reinforced with metal sheets pointing the gun at the doors.

When John and the boys made it out to the balcony only Hank was ready on his balcony facing the ocean. The others had better hurry up, John thought as he laid down on the deck placing his machine gun barrel out of a cutout in the reinforced fencing that lined the balcony.

"They are almost to land," John's oldest son Marlin said as he looked through the binoculars at the oncoming hoard. "I count twenty seven from two boats. Standard rifles. One machine gun mounted on the front of the first ship."

Just as he said that a single, loud pop rang out from Hank's perch.

"Twenty six now." Marlin said with a grin. Putting the binoculars down and taking cover he and his brother posted up ready to shoot whenever John gave the command.

Now shots were belting out from the ship's machine gun nest toward Hank's house and men began to jump off the boats into the shallow water and make their way to the path up the hill.

"Wait until they are funneled on the path before you start shooting," John directed.

His boys were afraid but they had trained many times for this and they knew what to do. This would be the youngest's (only eleven) first encounter with marauders but Marlin, 19, had been through two such events. One group had come from the sea like this but that time they didn't have the path that funneled anyone coming from that part of the bay straight through a narrow opening up a sandy beach. People died that time and then the built the path.

Another shot rang out from Hank's place and the machine gun on the ship stopped firing for a moment before another man jumped on and started firing back again. Now both ships were stopped along the shore and all the men were disembarking onto the beach and taking cover next to logs and defunct boats or behind the tall grass that grew all over the sand. Some marauders laid down fire toward the mansions and some started to head up the hill.

"Now!" John yelled and he and his sons started to fire onto the men heading up the path, the machine gun thudding against the wood deck with each round. Marlin and the younger son had single shot hunting rifles with scopes but their aim was dead on. Both targeting and firing and then pulling back the bolt, chambering a new round and firing again like seasoned military veterans. Soon other balconies were home to firing squads raining bullets down on the beach and after a few frightful moments it was over.

No one was moving on the beach other than a few moaning or crawling men but even they were silenced quickly by a few shots from Hank's perch. John and his sons stood up and look around to see that their neighbors had joined the defense and were cheering all around them. They had survived the onslaught and protected their territory once more from would-be "takers". Those that roamed the world stealing, raping and destroying all they came into contact with. John and his community had come together and decided that they would not live like those "takers". They would strive for peace in a broken world and protect themselves from anyone that tried to take what they had worked for. They fished and hunted and grew a few crops and they trained and prepared. That is how they would choose to survive.

Just as all the revelry was starting to die down and everyone contemplated the clean up that was ahead Marlin took up the binoculars and looked out at the scene. His smiled faded and his jaw dropped.

"Oh Shit!" He said. "There's more." He handed the binoculars over to John.

John looked out past the dead men on the beach, past the two boats that brought them, past the ship wreckage that littered the bay and saw something bursting through the fog. The ship he saw was ten times the size of the first ships, with canons lining both sides, hundreds of men on it's deck and white sails boasting a large yellow smiley face painted on. Then two more ships broke through the fog to join the armada all with yellow smiley faces adorning their massive white sails.

"Go get the rocket launchers." John said with no emotion and not taking his eyes off of what was to come. His sons ran back into the house to get the rocket launchers.