What Locket?

“Why are they chasing us?” She demanded between panted breaths.

He whispered back, “I have no idea. I’ve been next to you the whole time!”

“Be quiet, they’re getting close.”

“I was quiet, until you started asking stupid questions.”

“Shhhh.” Sarah, pressed a finger to her lips, as a visual aid. The finger was half obscured by the sleeve of her light brown cardigan, loosely draped over her faded, yellow flower print on black sun dress. Her lips, pale and dry, were puckered to simulate containing a great ruckus. Tanned skin fit loose on her round face, well weathered but eyes that still reflected a laughter, even as they fled danger, that made Larry’s heart smile.

Crouched directly next to her, behind the red oleander bush, Larry wiped the sweat from his wrinkled, sun burned brow and grimaced at her through his filthy, white beard. The loose overalls and (formerly) white t-shirt probably were tight on him when they were first purchased, but that was before The Collapse. His heart raced with fear, but when she shushed him, somehow he just wanted to laugh. The sound of approaching predators helped contain his frivolity.

The approaching mercenaries kept several local warlords propped up, for a fee of course. Violence for hire was a profitable business model these days. Without fresh gasoline, they were forced onto alternative transport; e-bicycles, scooters, and a golf cart for their leader. They would be a laughable troupe except for the assorted guns, knives, and DIY maces.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” They stopped just where the blacktop crumbled into a massive pothole, about ten feet from where Larry and Sarah huddled, clutching each other. Their leader stood up in the passenger seat of the golf cart, his voice was loud and nasal. “The harder you make us work, the harder we will be on you! So let’s make this as easy as possible! What do you say, folks?” He wore a leather vest and biker’s cap, the kind with the silver chain across the brim, and camouflage pants tucked into brown hiking boots. “All we want is to talk. Honestly.”

Larry and Sarah didn’t need to think about it. Only a fool would trust a merc. But they also knew their hiding spot wouldn’t last. The mercenaries were already searching the area, their electric vehicles left laying in the road. Larry turned to Sarah and began communicating a plan to her by a series of rapid hand gestures. She looked at him, clasped his hands with her left, and then raised the middle finger of her right hand to his face.

She whispered, “I have no idea what that bullshit meant.” Before he could respond, a scrawny man in brown sandals, red leggings, a blue Oxford, and a shaved head, holding a baseball bat covered in nails, stepped around the bush behind Sarah. Larry grabbed her hand and ran, dragging her towards the road.

“Points! I found-ed ‘em! Points me!” The weird little man shouted, frantically waving the bat-mace above his head. They scampered across the road. The mercenaries circled in, all screaming their battle cry, “BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD!” while shaking their weapons above their heads.

The couple ran straight for the bikes. He grabbed one, Sarah another. They ran across the 12 foot diameter, rubble filled pothole, e-bikes on their shoulders, hugging the right edge. For locals like them, this hole was a well known hazard, but for the Mercs this was an away game. In some places the hole was shallow, others deep, but mostly it was incredibly unstable.

They were on the other side, getting seated on their stolen bikes, when the mercenaries began crossing. Two on foot came first, running right across the middle. In a tight pack behind them were two scooters, followed by another e-bike. As the first two hit the center, the ground opened like it was meant to do that. Then the whole pothole just crumbled and dropped, taking them all down, till there was a 12 foot opening in the road. On one side were Larry and Sarah, and on the other stood the two remaining mercenaries, with their golf cart. Larry took this opportunity to taunt them, “You could have gone home, but no, you just had to do it the hard way! Didn’t ya?”

The other Merc, a tall, slender man with smooth, sable skin, clean shaven but with a giant, gray bush of hair expanding from his head in all directions equally, wearing a blue track suit, stepped forward and un-slung a blue backpack from his shoulder.

“Uh, Larry, I think we should go.” Sarah tapped his arm repeatedly, still watching the new guy.

“Yeah, babe, I think you may be on to something.” They turned the bikes, pressed the lever at the thumb grip and raced away at 15-20 mph. Big Grey Hair drew a sling shot and sticks of dynamite from his bag. He placed a stick in the pocket, drew back, aimed, Leather Cap lit the wick with a zippo, and with a whack of the straps he let loose. It flipped through the air, exploding as it landed just a few yards behind them, the concussive force knocking them both down. They were stunned more than long enough for the mercenaries to circle around the hole and simply walk up to where they lay.

Sarah peered up, squinting at Leather Cap, vision still blurry, he spoke first, “The locket, give it to me.”

“What locket?”

“Quit screwing around. You stole a heart-shaped locket from the Duke of Orlando. You had the misfortune of stealing something important to him. So, give it up.”


Larry sat up, “The only locket I own is the one my mother gave me.”

“Of course. It’s all a misunderstanding.” He nodded. “Give it to me.”

“It has my name engraved on it.”

“This is not a debate. I was sent here to kill you for theft and return the locket. That’s what I am being paid for. I don’t get paid for truth and justice. Therefore, I don’t care about that. So, give me the locket, and I’ll kill you quick. Otherwise…”

“Oh shit, boss.” Big Grey Dynamite sniffed and scanned the sky.

“What?”

“You don’t hear that?”


“You just sniffed.”

“I can hear the winds, but I don’t smell any rain.”

“I don’t hear any wind.”

“I do.” Sarah agreed.

Larry nodded, “Yeah me too, we should take cover.”

“Shut up both of you.” Leather Cap waved his gun at them, “There hasn’t been a pop-up storm in months, and nothing is predicted. We’re fine.”

Big Grey Dynamite started to shift nervously, “Honestly boss, I do think I hear something, from over there.” As he motioned towards the lakes half a mile north, as if on cue, the darkening sky opened and a twister spun downward. It bounced over to the road then followed the path of the blacktop as a vehicle would, straight towards them, lightening illuminating the interior like a celebration. It reached from sky to ground like a capricious child flicking toys. The approaching sky darkened, and hail thundered against the ground, sounding the advance.

“Ohhhh, SHIT!” Big Grey Dynamite screamed, just before turning tail and running. Larry and Sarah both leapt to their feet to run away as well, but froze when they heard the gun cock.

“Nope!” Leather Cap kept them targeted. “Not without the locket.”

“Dude, there’s a pop-up twister headed straight at us. Those hail stones are serious. We need to move!”

“For crying out loud, just give it to him.” Sarah screamed at Larry, hair whipping in her face.

Wind pulled at all of their hair and clothes, the leather cap flew off his head, exposing a bald, splotchy skull. He stumbled to keep his feet. Larry smiled, “Good luck, sharpshooter” Then he grabbed Sarah by the hand and ran for the roadside, ducking and swerving as they went.

The Merc formerly known as Leather Cap fired three shots, all lost to the wind. As he tried to reload, the storm lifted his body and flung it into the distance. Larry and Sarah had found a collection of boulders piled like a crude pyramid and crawled beneath, the weight held the stones and the stones protected the couple. The other mercenary was looking back at the storm as he ran straight into the sinkhole, never to be seen again. After a few miles, the twister dissipated.

Larry slithered out first. He looked around, saw no sign of their enemies, “Whoo-hoo! Victory! Yeah, bitches! Stick that in your mouth and like it!” As he danced about, Sarah crawled out, stood up, and stared at him, arms folded across her chest.

“Victory?”

“We are alive, they are not; Victory.”

“And what’s this locket bullshit?”

“Baby, you know how unreliable mercenaries are.”

“I was sitting next to you when you told him it had your name on it.”

“Oh, see, well, yes, so, OK, right, remember when we met the Duke of Orlando?”

Silence.

“OK, well, remember when he offered us as reward for our, MY, service, any treasure in the room except from the collection on the right side?”

Silence.

“So, it is possible, that I did not obey said restrictions, exactly.”

“You dick. So now, instead of a friend in high places, we have an enemy. Excuse me, another enemy. And you did not tell me.”

“I suppose, yes, but that wont matter anymore. Which is the whole point.”

“You have 30 seconds to explain why you lead me into no man’s land to get killed by Mercs.”

“All this insanity is because most of the world is unlivable now, right?”

“20 seconds.”

“Most, but not all.”

“10.”

“Greenland, Antarctica, Siberia, other former frozen wastes are now melted into open fields and clean, fresh water. But getting there is not cheap or easy. What with the coastal cities under water. But this,” he reached into his breast pocket and began pulling on a chain, “should cover the cost of transport to Greenland.” He held aloft the chain, on the end of which was a gold, heart shaped locket roughly the size of his eye, in the center of which rested a diamond glimmering in the sunlight of the now clear skies.

Sarah gasped, “Mother of Whores, that's a big’un.”

“Yes.”

“So, earlier, when I asked why they were chasing us, and you got all shitty… you did, in fact, know. Is that correct?”

He shrugged, “Well, technically, they could have been marauders or something.”

“Why shouldn’t I kill you and take that locket to the Duke? How would that not be smarter?”

“Because, you love me?”

“Are you sure?”

“Less so, at this moment, than when I concocted this plan.”

“Give me that, you idiot.” She snatched the locket from him, inspecting it for herself, “Isn’t Greenland a tiny island?”

“Seriously? I saw a map one time, like 8 states fit in that tiny island. Midwest states, too, not none of them Delaware, Rhode Island bitches. We’re talking waves of grain, here.”

“OK, that’s sounds real.” She continued staring at the locket, supporting it with her palm “Tell me you have more current sources of intel than your memory of internet memes between porn sites.”

“Yes. I spoke with a trader at the port of Orlando, from Greenland, trading their staples for our pre-Collapse artifacts. Its all kosher, babe. We are meeting his ship in New Jacksonville. I brought you out here to surprise you and pick up supplies I stashed out by the lakes.” He gestured towards the west, “And don’t act like you don’t miss cyber porn.”

She sighed heavily, “Well, we certainly can’t stay here, anymore. Can we? So, on to Greenland, then.” She took his hand and they walked northwest, towards the lakes in the distance, the sunset turning the sky layers of orange and red before them.