Jim Thorn - Arrival - A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller

Maya’s lips trembled as she tried to keep her sight on the man’s chest. She shook her head, dropped the barrel, and then raised it up again.

“Don’t make me do this,” she said, taking another step toward the rig.

“You won’t, honey, you won’t. You ain’t got the balls .”

He reached for the gun in his own holster then, and Maya pulled the trigger of hers. The report echoed across the fields, and the kick sent a jolt of pain from her wrists to her shoulders.

The man let out a yelp and looked behind him to where the bullet had gone through the wooden privacy fence. He looked back at her and laughed.

“You stupid bitch.” He raised his gun up, and Maya fired a second time.

This time, she didn’t miss.

The bullet caught the man in the stomach and he fell to the ground.

“Goddammit!” he cried out.

Smoke billowed from the windows and open door of the house, and she heard the men on the front porch yelling.

Maya sprinted to the rig as the man she’d shot rolled over and fired in her direction. Reno kicked the passenger door open and Maya dove inside. Bullets whizzed by, and she shut the door without being hit.

“Go! Go!” she screamed.

They had five seconds, maybe less, before more men with guns came around back or the entire house exploded—neither of which seemed like something she wanted to stick around to see.

Reno slammed on the gas pedal as bullets shattered the back window of the rig. He cut around the corner and crashed through the closed gate. Two armed men on the other side dove out of the way as the rig sped past.

As the vehicle raced out into the street, Maya saw Roy staring them down. The two made eye contact as he lifted a rifle to his shoulder. Maya ducked.

Two gunshots rang out, but neither hit the rig.

She looked out of her window as they turned the corner at the end of the street. Roy raised a middle finger in their direction as flames engulfed what was left of Sean’s house.

Reno sped down the road, their tires screeching as he turned the corner.

“Holy shit!” he said, slamming his hands on the steering wheel.

Maya stared straight ahead, seemingly unaware of her surroundings. Her hands shook, and when she looked down to see the gun in her hand, she realized what she’d done.

“I shot someone,” she said, thinking it to herself out loud.

“You did what you had to do.”

Her hands continued to shake. All her years spent saving lives, and now she had crossed that line—and she couldn’t undo what had happened. Violent car accidents and shootings had always been the most difficult calls for Maya. Gunshot victims became victims. And now she had become a perpetrator.

“Listen to me,” Reno said, taking her hand and pulling her out of her thoughts. “You didn’t have a choice. He was going to hurt you. You saved lives by setting that house on fire, and you saved us by acting quickly. Another few seconds, and that entire crew of thugs would have been firing at us.”

“Let’s not talk about it anymore,” Maya said. “Every day I’ve tried saving lives. And now…”

On the way back to White’s Creek, the rig’s radio had gone to static and crowds became more prominent. Maya noticed fewer emergency personnel around now, despite the apparent slide into anarchy. She would have expected martial law to be declared and curfews initiated, but who would be left to enforce them if or when that did happen? It seemed as though the authority figures inside the dome had found themselves in the same dire situation as the average citizen. Instinctively, she guessed that most people had reverted to evolutionary instinct, choosing to protect their own families—at all costs.

“It’s getting crazy out here,” Reno said.

Maya looked to the sky. “We should get back to the house. I have a feeling that things are only going to get worse when the sun goes down.”

She felt the torque of the engine as Reno hit the gas. He had turned the siren on, although it probably had little to no effect on the people in the streets.

“Shit,” Reno said.

Ahead, dozens of people and parked cars blocked the interstate. These folks held not only signs, but baseball bats and steel pipes.

“I’m gonna take this exit and try to drive around them.”

Reno veered off the highway. By the time he saw the roadblock at the end of the off-ramp, though, it was too late. And even if could have turned around, the people behind them still blocked the interstate to White’s Creek.

“Go back,” Maya said.

Reno slammed on the brakes. Several people at the end of the ramp rushed forward, wielding bats, pipes, and two-by-fours. He threw the gear shifter into reverse and hit the gas without checking his mirrors. When Reno did look up, he cursed as he slammed on the brakes again.

“Why did you stop?”

“A big truck just pulled in behind us and stopped!”

Maya looked in the mirror and saw the pickup truck. Three men jumped out of the back and walked up toward the rig. She reached down to the floor, trying to find the gun. But before she could locate it, a man appeared at her window, knocking on it with the barrel of his own shotgun. He yanked at the handle, but the door was locked.

“Open up!” he said, his bloodshot eyes staring back at her from beneath a mop of greasy, red hair. The man’s shirt sleeves had been torn off and his blue jeans appeared to be covered in motor oil.

Maya glanced at Reno. Another man stood at the driver’s side door, holding a baseball bat. Reno shook his head.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” the man said. “We simply want the medical supplies.”

“If your people are hurt, we can help,” Maya said. “Please put down the weapons.”

“Ain’t gonna work like that,” the man said. “I’m sorry, but we’ll decide who gets help and who doesn’t.”

Reno glanced at the guns on the stretcher, the ones they’d taken from Sean’s house. He looked at Maya, and this time she shook her head.

“Let them have the supplies,” Maya said.

“What? No!”

“What are we going to do? Shoot them? They have guns, too. And I’m not going to resort to that. I can’t. Not again.”

The man with the shotgun again knocked on Maya’s window. “Come on now. You letting us in or not?”

Maya reached for the unlock button. She looked at Reno once more. Sweat had collected on his brow, and he raised both hands into the air. She pressed the button and opened the door.

“Good,” the man said, opening her door all the way. “Now get out.”

Maya obeyed, and so did Reno. The man on the driver’s side jumped into the rig and scampered into the back.

“Woo! Jackpot, boys!”

He returned holding a shotgun, showing it to the man standing next to Maya.

“Damn. Does every ambulance carry these?”

“You can have it all,” Maya said. “We don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks. As if we needed your permission.”

The man narrowed his eyes as a glint of metal caught his attention. He reached down beneath the passenger seat and pulled out the Glock that Maya had dropped. Looking at it, he smirked. He flipped it around, took hold of it by the barrel, and offered it to Maya. She stared at the gun, and then looked into the man’s eyes.

“You’re going to need to protect yourself out there. Take it.”

Maya’s hand shook as she took the gun from him, her eyes never leaving his.

“Both of you are welcome to join us.”

“Why didn’t you ask first instead of stopping the rig and dragging us out?”

“Sorry, but that’s the way it is now. It’s a dog-eat-dog world.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”