Darrell Bain - The Melanin Apocalypse

For a few moments he thought they were going to get clear without any more problems when he heard the ripping noise of a machine pistol on full automatic, loud even through the closed window of his car.

Behind him, he saw June’s car swerve off the road and up onto the adjoining sidewalk before veering back onto the street and coming to a jarring halt against the rear end of a parked car.

Doug stood on the brakes and twisted the steering wheel. His vehicle slid sideways, narrowly avoiding another car speeding recklessly in the other direction. He got the car into reverse gear while hitting the switch for the driver’s window. It came all the way down automatically. Looking backward, he saw figures emerging from another car. Its occupants had been waiting at a side street for anyone with a white face to pass. He thought some of their gunfire must have been meant for him. If so, they had missed—but raked June’s car with a row of bullets, hitting the hood and side window and blowing out a rear tire.

He backed quickly, but not quite fast enough. A black youth was already pulling the door of June’s car open. She was screaming. Doug stopped, jumped from his car and yelled. The youth behind the one trying to yank June from the vehicle whirled and fired. Doug dropped instinctively as he saw what the boy intended and had his own little automatic in his hand as he hit the ground and rolled, with chips of concrete and asphalt chasing him. He raised his pistol and fired once, twice. The young black man fell.

The other tugged at June harder, not realizing that his companion had been shot. He staggered backward with a piece of June’s blouse in his hand and tripped over the sprawled body of his cohort. Cursing, he drew a short barreled pistol and fired wildly in Doug’s direction.

Still lying prone, Doug aimed and shot once. That was enough. His bullet punctured the youth’s trachea just below his chin and shattered the vertebrae behind it. He dropped, with blood spurting from his throat in a red fountain. Doug ran forward while trying to look everywhere at the same time. He ducked his head and peered into the driver’s compartment of June’s vehicle, dreading what he might see. June uttered a short scream and shrank away from him, then saw who it was.

“Doug! Thank God!” She clambered out, shaking as if she had palsy.

“Come on, let’s get out of here!” Doug said, daring to breathe again. He took her hand and hurried her toward his car. Seconds later he was speeding away, not worrying at all over possible repercussions from the two young men he had killed. Gene would see that no charges were brought, even supposing he or his car was identified.

As soon as he felt like they were out of danger, he pulled over to the side of the street. June came into his arms, still shaking. Doug comforted her while still remaining alert, then as soon as she quieted, he replaced the three cartridges he had spent and holstered the little automatic.

“I didn’t even know you were carrying a gun!” June said. There was still a tremor in her voice. She suddenly realized that almost the whole front of her blouse was missing and that one of the shoulder straps of her bra had been torn loose, almost freeing her left breast from the cup. She gathered what material she could and held it close to her chest.

“Well, I don’t advertise it all over the place, but I’m glad I had it tonight. Can we go on now? Or if you like, I have an old shirt in the trunk. I can get it for you.”

“No! Let’s just go on!”

The route he was on now took them to the other side of the CDC complex and on toward the security building with no more problems. Nevertheless, he kept his gun laying in his lap and continually scanned the streets for possible danger. On the way, Doug said “I’m sorry I got your car all shot up. I should have taken the longer way to begin with.”

“It’s all right, you couldn’t have known. Besides, it’s insured. Did… did you kill those boys? I don’t think they were even grown yet.”

“Yes, they’re dead. I didn’t have time to do anything else and they were trying to kill me.”

“And God knows what they had in mind for me. Thank you. You’ve saved my life again.”

“After risking it first. Not a good way to go about rescuing a damsel in distress. Have you still got your phone?”

“Yes, I have it—oh damn, no I don’t. I forgot my purse! Don’t go back for it, though.”

Doug took his phone out and handed it to her. “Why don’t you call in and see if there’s problems at work? Just press the call button and hit seven, then hand it to me.” He could have managed, but he didn’t want to take his eyes from the road even for a second.

June took the phone, fumbled with it a moment while her breast almost escaped again, then handed the phone to Doug.

He listened for a second then said “This is Doug Craddock. I’m on Edge Street, coming in the back way.

Do you have problems there?” He waited a moment, then spoke again. “Uh huh. Tomorrow? All right.

Pass the word up that I’ll be on the cell phone if I’m needed. Yeah, that’s right. It’s posted. Okay, thanks.” He flipped the cover closed and stuck it back in his pocket.

“It’s about what I thought after we left Morgan’s. The riot, as they’re calling it, is happening along Elderberry avenue and west of there. That area is mostly lower class and mostly black. Apparently some of the local toughs took it upon themselves to rid the neighborhood of any whites at all. It spread from there. We just happened to be caught by a couple of the kids that were driven off by the police. Bad luck. CDC is secure, though. All the action is several blocks away and about under control now.

However, we’re all being recalled, as of tomorrow. No more off-campus living. They’ve got an extra crew doing a rush job on the place next door, turning it into temporary living quarters until our building at the CDC is ready.”

“Is the recall just for the security guys or the medical staff, too?”

“Just us so far, but I expect everyone will be hunkering down there before long.” Doug glanced over at her then looked away. “I’ve been heading toward the security building. Shall I take you home?”

“Doug… I don’t want to be alone right now. Could you stay with me?” Realizing that he might think she was implying more than just company, she amended the invitation—or request. She wasn’t sure which it was. “I don’t mean… um, that…”

“It’s okay. I know what you mean. Sure, I could stay with you, for tonight, anyway. I just can’t guarantee I won’t get called in, though.”

“Well, let’s go anyway. It’s not all that far from work. I’ll pack a bag and if you get called, I’ll go in with you and stay in one of the transient apartments. There’s always some empty ones. Or there have been in the past.”

“Okay, which way?”

June gave him directions. As they turned into the apartment complex she directed him to, Doug burst out laughing.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing, except that we live in the same place.”

June’s lips parted in surprise. She giggled, then gasped. “Good Lord. It’s like a bad plot from a romance novel. But why—oh, I remember. You said you hardly ever stayed here. That’s why we haven’t seen each other in passing.”

It turned out that they were even in the same twenty four unit building of the six structures comprising the Southern Arms Apartments, and both were downstairs, though on opposite sides of the building.

The only difference in their apartments was the décor and furnishings, but while Doug knew his own place hardly looked lived in, June had already made hers into something resembling a home, even with what he suspected was rented furniture. He could definitely tell the difference. It made him nostalgic, remembering all the little touches Doris had used in their home that he would never have thought of.