Alea Jacta Est: A Novel of the Fall of America (Future History of America Book 1) (7 page)

“What did
you see in Tampa before you left?  Were you near Ybor City?” asked Erik.

Alfonse
crushed the empty beer can in his large fist.  “Yeah.  It was like something
out of
Mad Max
.  It was weird.  People were putting up hurricane
shutters.  They were watching everyone drive by.  I mean, I didn’t want to
walk, but just the looks on some of the faces.  Man…it was like nothin’ I ever
seen.”

“That was
this afternoon?” asked Stan.

“Yeah,”
Alfonse shook his head.  “I still can’t figure it out.  It was like they knew
something was going down so they were getting ready, you know?  Boarding up all
the Latino joints, but anyone else, the whites, the blacks…they were just
standing around talking.  I mean, I’m black, so I’m almost used to seeing
people look at me like that—but these guys were watchin’
everybody
.”

Another man
spoke up, “You heard about the race riots?”

Alfonse
looked down.  “Yeah.  I don’t know why the hell some people got to ruin
everything for the rest of us,” was all he said.  It sounded like an apology.

“Well, I
think I can safely say, that we’re about to see some shit hit the fan in
Tampa.”  The man looked around, satisfied he had everyone’s attention.  “I’m
Ted Jenson.  Deputy Sheriff.  From what
I
hear, the riots are being
called “race riots” but nobody
really
thinks that’s what they are.”

Alfonse
looked up with a glimmer of hope in his eyes.  “Right, right—what the hell they
got to complain about, anyway?  No jobs? 
Lot’
s
of
people
without jobs right now—it ain’t a black thing anymore.”

Ted sipped
his beer thoughtfully.  He lived across the hall from Erik and Brin.  He
explained to everyone that he had two sons, and lived with his wife who had a
son and a daughter, all from previous marriages.  Ted joked that his family was
like the modern Brady Bunch, as a kid squealed and jumped into the pool to the
laughter of playmates. 

“So, pardon
me for asking, but how come you’re not out there…I don’t know, patrolling or
something?” asked Erik.

“Sheriff’s
decided that this side of town was not much of a threat for rioting or looting
and sent home anyone who wasn’t already scheduled to work.  North Sarasota is
another matter.”

“What do you
mean, North Sarasota?  I’ve never heard of that,” said Alfonse.

“How long
you been here again, man?” asked Erik with a grin.

“Just since
the spring, why?”

“Oh.  Well,
you should know, North Sarasota is  the low income side of Sarasota.  Our own
little seedy underbelly,” quipped Ted.

“The ‘poor
side of the tracks’.  Got it,” replied Alfonse.  He looked uncomfortable, like
he didn’t belong here in the affluent side of the city with the white men with
whom he shared a beer.

“It’s close
enough to cause concern, but not heavily populated enough for real fear.  It’s
late July and that means off-season, so there aren’t a lot of tourists runnin’
around anyway,” continued Ted as if Alfonse had never spoken.  “If this had
gone down in November, it’d be a nightmare.  There’d be panicking Snowbirds out
there like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Snowbirds?”
asked Alfonse.  “Never head that one before.”

“Yeah, it’s
what we call the Yankees that come down here every year from about September
through the spring.  They avoid their own winters and come down here like
migrating birds for the warm weather.  Snowbirds,” replied Ted with a grin. 

“They act
like seagulls,” added Stan.

“How so?”
asked Erik, sipping his drink.

“Well, they
fly down here, make a lot of noise, shit all over everything, then fly home.”

The men
shared a much needed laugh and watched the women and children play by the pool
for a few moments.  It almost seemed like a normal summer night.  Almost.  The
usual glow to the north west in the night sky that signified Sarasota’s light
pollution was gone.  Erik looked up and marveled at the staggering number of
stars to be seen.

“Yeah, I
only work day shifts, so I’m not going back out tonight,” announced Ted to get
the conversation going again.  Erik noticed his pager and cell phone were
attached to his belt.  He had the close cropped military style hair cut common
among young cops in this part of Florida.

“You in the
Army?” asked Erik, nodding at the haircut of his newly acquainted friend.

Ted
laughed.  “No way—I’m a Jarhead, through and through.”  A few of the others
chuckled and looked at Ted differently.  Not only a cop but an ex-Marine. 

Erik filed
that away in his mind—useful information should things get worse.  He and Ted
had met a few times and exchanged pleasantries when they were moving in, but
hadn’t really stopped to talk.  Erik realized he had been living near these
people now for months and didn’t really know any of them.  Guilt rose up inside
him.

“What about
you?” asked Ted, with a gesture towards the last man to speak.

The
slightly stooped man in the disheveled clothes spoke up.  He looked like he
hadn’t bathed in a few days and had the beginnings of a beard to match. 
“Name’s Henry Grimes,” he practically glared at the others.  “I live back there,”
he threw a thumb over his shoulder towards the rear wall of the com
p
lex.  There
was a small, squat building with four units directly behind Erik and Ted’s
building.

“Ain’t here
because I want to be either.  My kid’s with me this weekend, and she just had
to come down to the damn pool.  This kinda
stuff
makes me sick.”

Ted seemed
to bristle.  “What kinda
stuff
?  Standing
around being civil with your neighbors?”

Henry
stared at the cop.  Erik could see he wanted to say something but held his
tongue.  He flashed a lopsided grin and narrowed his eyes.  “What, like you
think if the power hadn’t gone out you guys would still be hangin’ out like
bestest buds?”  He motioned with his hands to dismiss the whole group.  “I
don’t like people.  I don’t care about the rest of the world.  Ever since that
bitch ripped my heart out, the only thing I have to live for is my baby girl. 
The rest of the world, including Ybor City,” he shot at Erik, “can go to hell
as far as I’m concerned.  Rather be piss drunk on the couch if this really is
the end of the world.”

“So,” said
Erik after an awkward pause.  “I’m Erik Larsson.  My wife Brin,” he waved to
her by the pool.  She waved back and smiled.  The other guys nodded and waved. 
“We live over there next to Ted,” he said and casually indicated his building
across the pond.  He tried to cover his anxiety at being the youngest of the
group.  The next youngest looked like Ted or Alfonse.

 “Whaddya
think about all this crap going on today?  I mean, really?”   

“Aaah, just
the power went out.  Who cares?  It’ll be back on tomorrow,” said Henry, taking
a final swig from the beer Erik gave him. 

“Yeah,
well…I’m not supposed to say anything yet…” said Ted, leaning in
conspiratorially.  “But, we got word from Tallahassee over the State Trooper
frequencies that the Feds are running scared.  Word is, Governors are gonna be
on their own for the next 24 to 48 hours—maybe longer.  Washington is still
trying to figure out why the riots got started in the first place.  Haven’t
been this bad since the ‘
60
s for cryin’ out loud.  It’s like they were
coordinated or something, strange as that sounds.  Word is martial law is going
to be declared in a few of the cities if it keeps up.”

“Jesus…”
said Erik. 

“Can’t have
that
…” Henry chirped sarcastically. 

“Hey, this
is serious!” said Stan.  Henry belched in reply.

“
Do they
know how many terror attacks?  What about the military, aren’t they whoppin’
someone’s ass by now?” asked Stan. 

“I’ve had
my shortwave radio up and running and I can’t get anything out of Canada…I
guess that’s not so unusual, but the news I picked up from London was talking
about reported wildfires out west.  Anyone hear anything about that?” said
Erik.

“How did
you get radio stations from England?” asked Stan.

“He said he
had a
shortwave
radio—it’s great for long-range communications.  If you
have the right antenna, you can pick up signals from around the planet,”
explained Alfonse.  Finally something he felt comfortable talking about:
electronics.

“Yeah—and I
do.  I got a clip-on speaker-wire antenna wrapped around the ceiling of the
closet.  I pull it out and clip it to the antenna on my cheapie shortwave
radio.  I was picking up signals from South America and Europe, no problem,” 
replied Erik.  “About a week ago I picked up a signal from China.  Some
Christian ministry operating out of some city over there I can’t pronounce.  It
was kinda cool.”

“A buddy of
mine up in Denver is into HAM Radio.  Damn.  Wish I had some of his gear right
now.  Bet those guys know
all
the news by now.  Wonder if they got riots
up there too?” pondered Ted.

“I was
planning on taking the Technician exam and getting my HAM license next month…”
said Erik.  “I guess that’ll be on hold for a while.  I just wish I had bought
the radio first.  At least I could listen in…”

Alfonse
took another drink from his beer.  “I got a cheap little alarm-clock radio, but
that’s about it.  A stereo I guess, but without power, it ain’t worth shit. 
‘Course, if the power was still on, I could plug us in to any radio station
that broadcasts over the internet.”  He shrugged.

Talk died
down as the men turned to their own thoughts, listening to the noise of the
crickets and frogs that surrounded them.  The burning tiki-torches cast a
campfire-like glow around the pool deck as the children ran and played and
women gossiped.

Erik leaned
against the railing and looked west across the still pond towards his own
apartment building.  Its silhouette was small compared to the three and
four-story buildings that comprised most of the complex. 

“I wonder
how many people live in this place?”

“I heard
last week when I went to pick up my mail that we’re still only 60% full,” said
Henry, looking south towards the darkened shells of the last three apartment
buildings still under construction.  “I know in my building, there’s only two
of the four units occupied.  We’re over on the southwest corner,” he said
pointing in the darkness.  His building, another one level structure like
Erik’s, was right up against the rear wall of the apartment complex.

“My
building is full.  So’s the one next door,” Alfonse replied, jerking his head
towards the three-story building just on the south side of the pool.  Motioning
to the opposite side of the pool, towards the duplicate three-story building,
he said, “I don’t know about that one though.”  The two large apartment
buildings flanked the main office building which sat directly in front of the
main entrance and was attached to the pool deck.

“Ours is
full too,” announced Ted, finishing off his beer.

Erik
nodded.  “So where
is
everyone?  I don’t see any candles or 
flashlights…there’s nothing, other than those kids playing in the grass.”

“Oh, I saw
a whole mess of people head out around sunset,” said Henry darkly.  “I’d be
gone too if I didn’t need gas.  But, with the power out, I’m not about to go
joyriding with the other idiots out there.”

“Why not?”
asked Stan.  His tone suggested he’d be just fine if Henry were gone.

“No power
mean no gas at the gas stations.  Think about it,” was the acidic reply.  He
crossed his arms and took the posture of a petulant child as he leaned against
the railing.

Alfonse
shook his head at Henry.  “Yeah.  Lot of folks just wanted to get in the air
conditioning or find food, I guess.  I was out messing with my car, trying to
catch the news on the radio when I saw a few families leave.  Even saw one guy
pack up his SUV and drive off like they weren’t coming back.  You’d think they
knew something we don’t.”

Erik
scratched his neatly trimmed goatee thoughtfully.  “What are they gonna do when
they run out of gas?  Don’t they know there’s no restaurants open?  Brin and I
went to the grocery store right after the lights went out, but without a lot of
cash we couldn’t get hardly anything,” Erik decided to bury his embarrassment
over not being ready with cash.  If things became as bad as he was beginning to
fear, embarrassment would be the least of his worries.  He didn’t want anyone
to realize exactly how much food he and Brin had squirreled away in their
apartment.

Henry smiled,
as if he had just heard a good joke.  “Looks like I wasn’t the only one who got
caught with his pants down.”  Erik flushed.

Ted was
about to say something when his cell phone rang.  “Pardon me, guys,” he said,
ducking out of the group and moving away to talk.  The others carried on the
idle chit chat for a few minutes until Ted came back.  His face looked grim in
the flickering torchlight.