James Hoch: Heckel Casey

I called once more for Jerky as I went into the back room. Leonard opened the window and stepped out. As I put one leg over the windowsill, Jerky jumped up into my arms and licked my face. "Nice to see you too." Once outside, I set the cat down. She immediately followed close on my heels. She periodically looked back and hissed.

Leonard moved quickly through the streets. At one point, he started to run. I didn't hesitate and kept pace with him.

After several hours, Leonard ducked into an old warehouse. We had made our way down into the industrial section of Des Moines. As customary, Jerky ran off, probably in search of mice. Watching the cat hunker down ready to pounce on an unsuspecting critter, I wondered how long before I was eating mice. Food was definitely at a shortage and the way clothes hung on me was a testament.

Thinking about eating mice turned my already-empty stomach into a knot. However, the smell of those tamales had lingered in my nose for the past several hours and I was still hungry.

"Any chance of having some of those tamales? I'm starving," I said, turning around looking for Leonard. From the back of the warehouse, I heard, "Holy shit. I don't believe it."

I went running to the sound of Leonard's voice. I stopped abruptly when I saw Leonard standing in front of an old rusty VW Beetle, or as we affectionately referred to it, The Bug . My first thought was gas. I bet there's no gas. That's why no one has driven off with it.

"Any chance there's fuel in it?" I asked with a hint of hope laced in my tone. "It's probably turned to shellac by now anyway."

Leonard shouted, "It says there's a quarter of a tank."

"Yeah, but I'm sure that gauge has to be broken, not to mention the battery is most likely dead."

"Nothing that a good strong back can't fix. Here, you push and I'll pop the clutch," he said excitedly as he got into the old faded red car. "Maybe we'll be lucky."

Just as I started pushing, Jerky came running across the warehouse floor with a mouse in her jaws. She hopped into the car through an open window.

I pushed, grumbling my doubts.

"Faster," Leonard yelled as he turned the key and shifted into first gear.

Suddenly, it felt like I was eighteen years old. All my muscles seemed to get a burst of power. My legs felt like well-oiled pistons. The old VW picked up speed. Leonard yelled for it to go faster.

"Wow, you've almost got us up to twenty-five miles an hour," he exclaimed. "That's incredible."

"Pop the clutch," I yelled as my legs gained more momentum.

"Just a bit more," Leonard screamed.

"Now!" I demanded.

He popped the clutch. The rusty, dented old classic lurched forward. Black smoke came out the tailpipe, hitting me in the face. The engine sputtered as Leonard gave it more gas. It coughed once more like an old man just waking up. The car took off. I could hear hollering from Leonard and he slapped the steering wheel excitedly. Jerky looked out the window with the mouse's tail dangling from her mouth.

A cold wind swept past me. I sensed something approaching and it made me very afraid. I stood out in the street, looking in all directions. "Leonard," I shouted. "Something's not right. I'm getting a bad vibe."

Leonard had turned around and pulled up next to me. "Get in. I felt it too. We've got to get the hell out of here pronto."

I jumped in the passenger seat and before I could even shut the door, Leonard sped away from the warehouse.

The most difficult part of driving was finding passable routes. The highways were littered with wrecks and debris. At times, he had to drive off the road to get around a huge car pileup.

"Remember all the road rage?" I said as he navigated around a large overturned 18-wheeler.

"Yes, I do. That's one event that is most memorable among many," Leonard recounted.

"I'm not sure, but it might be a close second to that first event. Do you remember that one?"

"Do you mean Bloody Super Bowl Sunday?" Leonard asked as he shifted gears.

I thought back to that January in 2015. It started out as your typical media-hyped event, but soon escalated into what seemed out of control. "I remember people appeared to get especially agitated and worked up about the game about a week before it took place. There were numerous Super Bowl parties all over the place. I must have gotten invited to about a dozen of them. At the time, I didn't think anything of it, but I'm sure glad I decided to stay home by myself."

"Yeah, I remember people I was working with just went nuts over their favorite team," Leonard added.

"That Super Bowl game seemed to act as a catalyst for violence erupting in people," I said. "It was a trigger that started the killings and the beginning of the end."

Leonard stared out at the road. After an awkward silence, he said softly, "Madeline planted those seeds of violence to sprout on that Super Bowl Sunday. I'm sure of it."

"It was about the third quarter when all hell broke loose if I remember correctly. People in the stadium just went berserk. They were punching, strangling each other. People were literally kicked to death," I said clutching the front dash.

"They used anything they could find to kill each other. News commentators even began punching each other. Eventually, the TV station went black. People in my neighborhood were shooting each other. I got in my car and got out of the city. It looked like a war zone," Leonard said as a tear formed in the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, I was just out of grad school. I had been teaching at a high school. I watched the game by myself and when that third quarter started, I was frozen in disbelief. When I heard numerous gunshots being fired, I ran out of my apartment complex, got in my car, and drove out of the city as well. I didn't go back for several days. I agree, it definitely looked and sounded like a war zone."

For what seemed like an eternity, we both sat in silence staring out at the dark, cloud-covered sky. Large drops of rain started to hit the cracked windshield. Sudden bolts of lightning followed by an earsplitting peel of thunder seem to bring us each back to reality.

"Looks like a pretty good thunderstorm brewing," I muttered under my breath.

"I think I'm going to pull under the next overpass and wait it out. I don't trust these tires to do very well in a downpour and it appears we have no functioning wiper blades," Leonard said as he fiddled with the knob on the dash.

"Good idea."

A mile passed before the next overpass appeared. Leonard eased the VW to the side and got us out of the rain.

"I suppose you should shut it off to conserve gas," I told him.

Leonard nodded his head and replied, "Sure hope we can get it started again."

"Hopefully, the battery should be charged up, assuming it can hold a charge."

"We can always get your super legs to push us again."

I rolled my eyes and petted Jerky, who had decided to take her nap on my lap as we waited out the storm. Leonard leaned back and closed his eyes. I, too, shifted my weight to get more in a sleeping position. Jerky lifted one lid in irritation. "Sorry," I whispered.

As I drifted off, more thoughts of that horrible first event invaded my dream. It was a very vivid dream. I was standing in front of my couch watching the TV in horror. The football field, as well as the stands, was streaming in bright crimson. People slipped on the blood, only to find themselves propelled into another attacker. As I watched in horror, I noticed blood leaking from my widescreen HD TV. A severed arm fell out of the corner.

I tried to run only to look down and discover that two other dismembered hands had clasped themselves like shackles around my ankles. More body parts fell from the now blood-encrusted TV. Tormented screams and painful moaning came out in surround sound with a bone-crushing decibel. More hands crawled toward my legs and attached like leeches. One bloody female hand with a large diamond ring made its way up my crotch and inched seductively up my torso.