The Surprise

Mark always loved Bianca. He loved her from the moment they met. He remembered seeing her in front of the movie theatre on Friday nights; of all the times he walked her home; the way she smelled so familiar, like the way it smells in summer just before rain. He thought of the way they held hands back then, nervously clutching at each other's fingers like they might be pulled apart. He remembered their first kiss, awkward and new, neither one of them knowing exactly where to put their hands or go about the moment. They were so nervous around each other but so at ease. He thought of all the times they had stopped seeing each other, sometimes years passing in between without speaking but still remaining close friends. He thought about all those drunken phone calls when miles were between them and the friendly banter that only they knew. They both had lived with lovers who were jealous of that connection. Shit, they had the same birthday. It was hard to forget Bianca for that reason alone. They talked each other through heart-aches and deaths; good movies and bad relationships; triumphs and let downs. They knew each other better than they knew themselves.

Mark found himself here, now. On an airplane to San Francisco, a small box in his hands that he would nervously flip open and snap shut every few minutes. Bianca had taken a job as an editor for a fashion magazine and had a week before starting her new job, so she invited Mark out for a vacation. She thought Mark would be leaving from Atlanta tomorrow but Mark had decided to fly to New Jersey and see Bianca's parents then take a direct flight from Newark a day early to surprise her. Mark had not told Bianca about him going to see her parents and wasn't sure of the reaction she would have. Bianca didn't know how much she really meant to him because he had never told her. They each knew they were in love. Bianca constantly reminded Mark that he could come live with her in San Francisco and they could be together. Mark always said it was bad timing. This time, though, he had decided to take her up on the offer and ask her to marry him. Mark felt like the life he was meant to live could finally begin and he was excited at the thought of sharing it with Bianca.

Bianca got up early the day Mark was coming. She had been in meetings all day the day before, helping her co-workers prepare for her departure. After work they had taken her out for drinks and a going away party. She didn't have time at all to even pick up the phone, so she checked her messages with her morning coffee. The automated woman on the other end of the line was cold. She simply reported information without any feeling. Bianca thought they should use a real woman's voice. The first message was from her friend, Loreen.

"Congratulations on your last day, sweetie! I cannot wait to meet Mark! If he's as great as you say he is, I might have to steal him from you! Just kidding. I know you're busy so I'll call you tomorrow. Bye!"

Loreen was so bubbly and upbeat. Bianca wished the automated woman was more like Loreen. Bianca impersonated the automated woman as she reported the date and time of the next message.

"September...Eleventh. Two...Thousand...One. Eight...Thirty Seven...A.M. Beeep!"

Bianca giggled at herself as the second message began to play.

"Bianca, it's your mother. I know you're busy but call me back right away."

She sounded like she was crying. Why though? They didn't know anyone that worked in the towers and Bianca had sent her mom an email letting her know everything was fine and she would call her today. She hung up the phone and dialed her mother. Bianca put her ear to the phone after hitting the "send" button. She thought the ring was allot like the automated voice: cold and lonely.

I took the train to work today, because the breaks on my car are shot. I didn't mind though, I liked trains. Fuck, I might just take the train for now on. I couldn't afford to get the car fixed now anyway because I had to make a payment on my Victorian Literature class. A class where I had a paper due in a few hours and it was only half done.

On my lunch break, I attempted to finish my paper, but I just had too many things on my mind- my shithole apartment, the bills I could not pay, the health of my mother. I went outside to clear my head.

I sat on the bench and watched the people walk by. I wondered where they were going, what was on their minds. I tried to think of excuses to tell my professor. I thought of telling her my computer crashed, which was true, only it crashed a year earlier.

"Miss Erin! Miss Erin!"

I turned around. It was Jay, the little boy who goes to the library for storytime every Thursday. His mother was returning books.
"I'll bring the car around, Erin. I'll be right back, Jay. Stay with Miss Erin" she said.
"Okay, mom," Jay said.
"Hello, Jay," I said.
"Hello, Miss Erin. You look sad today," he said.
Caught off guard, I said, "Yeah, I'm a little sad today".
"Why?" Jay asked.
"My mother is sick and I can't get my paper finished for class," I told him.
"Don't be sad, Miss Erin. Your mom will get better and you can get your paper done. You are not sick and the sun is out today. Plus, there are so many leaves to jump in," he said.
Then he ran over to the pile of leaves and jumped in. A few moments later, his mom pulled up in an old station wagon and yelled for him to come inside.

I laughed.
Jay was right.

I managed to finish my paper.

Overtime

John had been driving for hours. He rubbed the dryness from his eyes and took the next exit off the Parkway. His stomach rumbled, trying to digest a meal that wasn't there. South Jersey was eerily empty in the fall months and he drove down the empty highway for some time until he saw a diner. The parking lot was almost as empty as the highway, only a few cars pulled up near the entrance. He parked on the side closest to the highway and walked in.

Inside the diner it was a nice change to the cold wind outside. The regular late night crowd that can be found in any all-night diner were huddled in booths that lined the walls. John took a seat at the empty counter as he was greeted by the waitress.

"Hi. Menu?"
"Please."
She handed him a menu ", anything to drink?"
"Coffee please."
She poured him a coffee, placed it in front of him and walked away.

John took a quick peek at her ass as she hurried to refill coffees and take orders at her other tables. She was too skinny, he liked his girls alittle chubbier. John decided righ then he would only tip her fifteen percent instead of his usual twenty and went back to looking at his menu.

The waitress returned shortly, flipping the pages of her order pad and blowing a piece of hair out of her face.
"Ready to order?"
"Yeah, I'll take two eggs over easy with salsa on the side. Do you have hot sauce?"
"Yes, that on the side as well?"
"Yeah, and lemme' get white toast and homefries with that. That's it. Thanks."
The waitress scribbled quickly, never looking up from her pad ", refill on the coffee?"
"Please."

She grabbed the coffee pot and refilled his cup before rushing into the kitchen to place his order. John sipped his coffee and took a look at his cell phone. It was quarter to three in the morning. He rubbed his eyes again and stretched back in his barstool. A guy with a dirty hooded sweatshirt walked in and sat at the opposite end of the counter. He seemed nervous as he sat, shaking his leg, his hands buried in the pockets of his sweatshirt. The waitress walked back out of the kitchen and over to the guy. John overheard him order a coffee.

Soon, the waitress brought John's food, refilled his coffee and hurried off again. Something about the guy at the other end of the counter bothered John. He didn't like the way he looked, so nervous. John ate his food, glancing over at the guy indiscreetly every once in a while, keeping an eye on him. Finally, the guy threw some money on the counter and quickly walked out. John laughed to himself, he couldn't believe he had been worried about that guy holding up the place. John finished his cup of coffee as the waitress walked up, scribbling in her pad.

"Anything else?"
"Just the check, thanks."
"Sure."

She finished scribbling and tore the check from the pad, placing it face down on the counter ", have a nice night." With that she walked away again. John checked the time on his cell phone. It was three fourty. He needed to get to work. He left the money on the table, fifteen percent tip included and walked out, jingling his keys in his hands as he walked around to the side of the building. The guy that had been sitting at the other end of the bar was now squatting on the curb at the side of the diner.

"Ah fuck" John thought ", this guy's gonna' want money."

John had to walk past him to get to his car, so he kept his head up as he walked, pretending not to see the guy. As John pasased behind him, he felt the guy turn and look up at him.

"Hey mister?"
In that moment, John hated him. He turned around and looked.
"Yeah?"
"Hey, do you think you could just give me a ride a couple miles down the road? It's freezing and I'm out of cash."

John looked up at the brick wall. No windows to save him. He tried to think of an excuse as he looked around the empty diner parking lot but found nothing. It would be easier just to take the guy than to argue with him.

"Yeah. Fine. Let's go, I've got work to do."
"Thanks so much, Mister."
The guy quickly got up and walked over to John's car. John unlocked his door, got in and unlocked the passenger door from the inside. The guy got in.
"Thanks again, sir."

Now that John could get a good look at him, he realized the guy was just a kid. He looked to be in his late twenties.

"Yeah, no problem kid. Where am I going?"
"Just take a left out of here, you'll see MacIntyre's Pub up on the right. You can just drop me there. I live right near there."
"OK. You in some kind of trouble or something?"
"No. Nothing like that. Just out of cash and it's really cold."
"Allright. How long am I gonna' be driving? Be honest, now."
"Fifteen, Twenty minutes maybe."

John huffed and turned out onto the road. He drove for about twenty five minutes before the kid spoke up ", it's coming up on the right. Right over here."

John pulled into the empty parking lot. The lot was spooky, all the lights were out and the bar employees were long gone. It was ten after four. It would still be a few hours until the sun came up. The only lights in the parking lot were John's headlights. John parked the car.

" Thanks again, mister. " The kid grabbed a small book out of his bookbag and handed it to John.
" What's this, kid? "
" Just a 'thank you'. "

John looked down at the book. 'ARE YOU SAVED?' stared up at him from the cover. Something about it lit a fire inside John. He got out of the car as the kid closed the passenger door.

"Hey kid, hold on. Could you move something from my trunk into my backseat for me? I would do it but my back."
"Sure."

John grabbed the keys from the ignition and handed them to the kid. John moved out of the kid's way so he could open the trunk. He put the key in the trunk lock and opened it. The kid stared down at the trunk and gasped. John squeezed one round off into the back of the kid's head. The kid made a small yelping sound as he slumped into the trunk. John put his gun back into its holster and quickly shoved the kid's legs into the trunk. John closed the trunk and looked around briefly, making sure no one was around before getting back into the car.

John got back onto the highway. It was about four thirty, now; just enough time to bury two bodies and get home as the sun came up. John huffed, he hated working nights.

The Waitress

Tanya was folding napkins, preparing for the night's dinner rush at the little diner she was working at. She stopped for a moment to light a cigarette, watching the blue smoke dance with the light pouring through the large windows that lined the walls. She thought about a life in California. She thought about walking out of work tonight, getting in her car and just driving west until she saw the ocean.

Just then, the bell on the door rang as it swung open, snapping Tanya out of her half-dream. Roy walked in and sat at the counter.

"What can I get ya', Roy?"
"Coffee."
"Allright! How's everything, Roy?"

Tanya grabbed a cup, a saucer and the coffee pot. She placed the cup on the saucer in front of Roy and filled his cup. Then, she grabbed a handful of creamers and tossed them next to his cup. They fell sloppily across the counter.

"Ahh, not bad Tanya. Not great but not bad. Same ol' shit, ya' know?"
"I know."

Tanya put the coffee pot back on the burner and returned to her cigarette and napkin folding duties. She heard the double doors to the kitchen swing open behind her. A hand slid across her stomach from behind, down her side and then down to squeeze her ass. Mich whispered in her ear, "Hey, baby." She could feel his breath on her ear, his hand still resting on her ass. She slapped it away.

"Not now, Mich."

Mich walked back into the kitchen with a huff, like a little boy who hadn't gotten a cookie.

Tanya went about folding her napkins and smoking her cigarettes, refilling coffee cups and smacking away Mich's grabbing hands. At the end of her shift, she stopped at the gas station to fill up her tank.

"Going on vacation, Tanya?" Joe asked, pointing at the suitcases in her backseat.

Joe was always working when she stopped for gas. He was a sweet old man, always wearing the same, beat up, old cardigan; always smoking the same cigarette; the cherry always at the edge of his fingers, nearly at the filter, so close she didn't understand how his fingertips didn't get burned.

"Yeah, just takin' a little trip, Joe."
"Well, have a good time. See you in a few days."

She thought about Joe. Him walking into his house and kissing his wife's sleeping forehead at the end of the night. She'd like to have that some day.

"See you around, Joe."

She pulled out onto the road and rubbed a tear away from her eye. Everything was about to get better.

2006 - Somewhere Near The Beginning Of The "End"

This is the back story for the character, Mark McDell, from the other story: The End and After. This is set about 6 years before the catastrophic events that are referenced in The End and After. I wanted to try and give the character his own life, his own history, so that I could better understand him. I also wanted to do some foreshadowing, which is exactly what the dream sequence is. Basically, the beginning of this story will also be the end of The End and After. It's still a work in progress, but I wanted to get it up here and see if I could get any feedback. Enjoy.

The forest was thick, but the sound of a train was close. I just couldn't see where it was coming from. It felt like something was chasing me, so I had to move quickly. I ran into the the thickest part of the brush until I could hardly move. I spotted an opening to my right, something thrashing the thickets of branches and undergrowth right behind me. I popped out of the opening and turned right, thinking I could double back on whatever it was that had been chasing me. I was met by something that resembled a man but stood 8 feet tall. I knew it was too late as my forward momentum ran right into the sideways swing of his axe-butt into my temple. The ringing in my ears was incredible and everything just went white.

The ringing continued, incessantly, as I opened my eyes and found myself in bed. I hit the "snooze" button on the alarm clock and the rining stopped instantly. I was having these dreams more and more often. They were always different, but something seemed the same, and they felt so real. I laid there for a few minutes and let myself really wake up before getting up and ready for work.

I had settled down in New Jersey after doing some traveling. Not really traveling, I guess. It was more like running. I had left my home in California, a great job, a great woman, everything. Patty wanted to get married and everything was going well. Maybe that's exactly what went wrong. So, without a word or a second thought, I jumped in my car and spent the next year or so traversing the country. I finally found myself living in Ocean Gate. Found a job doing security at a nuclear power plant and lived a quiet life alone in a lonely beach town. It was a welcomed change to the life I was living in San Diego. I didn't really need to work, I was a trust fund kid and had made a killing in real estate development. Me, Patty, our kids if we ever had any and our grandkids would probably all be able to live off the money I had made.

But here I was, living in New Jersey, alone, working a real "man's" job...

The End and After (Working Title) - Chapter 1

this is the first chapter of something I'm working on. It was originally meant to be a short story. It has kind of grown from there, but I will be working on a series of short stories dealing with the same character but before the series of events that bring us to this "book," The End and After. Let me know what you think so far...negatives appreciated just as much as positives.

I had been riding freights for days. Waking up screaming to a box car filled with empty pill bottles and various garbage, from dreams of the way life was before the shit hit the fan. I could feel the train slowing down now, so I packed up my bag quietly in the dark, pill bottles rattling and rolling all around me as the brakes hissed and squealed. The train still slowing. I grabbed my bag and slid the door open. The night wind rushed in and I could smell pine and smoke. I was somewhere in the Northwestern Territory. Below me, a nice grassy hill. "Thank You for the little things," I said looking up at the sky and leaped off. There's no such thing as a soft landing in train hopping, but this was as good as it could get.

The grass was wet and my feet gave out beneath me. I slid for a few feet on my ass before rolling to a full stop. I stood up and brushed off.
"Coulda' been worse, McDell."

After months of riding freights and hiking the territories alone, I was completely comfortable having conversations with myself.

"Just remember ol' Willy Burnaski. Son of bitch never looked where he was leapin' and ended up half stuck in a tree. 'Course the other half kept on fallin' to the ground!"

I had a good laugh at my own sick joke. Of course, Willy had been a good friend of mine, but you just gotta' laugh at life sometimes. Keeps you from going insane after you've seen a thing or three. And I had seen my share just over the last five or so years.

Back in 2012, everyone was talking about the Mayan calendar and the world ending. And on December 24, 2012 some of those people were dead on. Only, it wasn't Wormwood or Planet-X or anything alien. Just our own dog world shaking fleas off its back. A massive earthquake sent a piece of Africa plunging into the sea, which created a tidal wave that completely wiped out what was once the eastern seaboard of the United States. Mass panic erupted all over the world, starting huge riots and total Anarchy. Governments were overturned or just given up on. I guess everyone just figured they were already dead. Millions died and mass suicide became very popular for the following few weeks. Luckily, I had been living in what was California at the time. After everything happened, I got in my car and headed east to see if I could help survivors. But there were no survivors; You were driving down a road that was once sprawling farm land, far from water, and all of a sudden there was the ocean. It was very sobering.
No survivors.