The Unfortunate Dwight Collins. 3

Dwight Collins head rested against the leather wheel. His wet forehead gave the wheel a saturated sponge feel. The ignition did not respond to his needs. He looked up at the shaded garage and tried it again making sure his feet were on the petals. For the first time he looked behind him applying the brake. No red glare from behind or off the other vehicles.

He sat there for a minute re-living this morning events trying to understand what was japanning. He smirked at how movie-eske this morning is. “Attackers on America; how’d they do it?” His overdosed TV/movie mind ran wild: EMP, terrorism, governmental tampering, etc. He came to and simply said he needs to get home then go from there.

He went through his SUV finding the useful things he wound need on a walk. Two things grabbed his attention, a little medical kit in his grove compartment and a crowbar he forgot about in the back. At that point he wished he wasn’t such a clean bug, only things left were a coloring book and an empty bag of chips. He decided to give up the search when his head popped the rear view mirror as he wiggled back to the front. It presented a Mr. Collins Dwight did not like, a terrified Dwight. He ripped the mirror off its housing and stuffed it in his pocket.

He got out and locked his door; thankfully it was an old style manual lock. But he couldn’t get his eyes out of his head. Absolute terror with a mouth that took giant gasp of air. The lines on his face were so prominent. His hair and face wet from all the sweat, he dare not look at his out of shape mass. He tried to shake it off when another scream came from the streets. He trotted over to find the source of the scream on Beau street, his knees ached again as he moved.

It was a woman who wasn’t in physical pain, but fear rapped her face as she pointed to the sky. Dwight followed the point which amplified his anxiety. The sky was dotted with falling men. ‘Paratroopers’, Dwight’s mind raced with images of world war two and other propaganda images of soldiers dropping into ‘enemy’ territory. All the words Dwight keeps going to have one solution which is war on American soil.

He dropped back to his SUV on the second level when the falling men rolled as they landed. He tried to reason with his frantic mind. ‘It’s an exercise, war game, worse case an evacuation that required paratroopers.’ He thought, until a single gun shot went off. He went back with uneasy curiosity. Peeping over the concert wall his eyes grew to the point they might fall out. A woman lay in the street with a chest wound and her body shutting down. Her eyes slowly, lazily moved from building to building.

Dwight froze against the cold shaded wall still looking for a reason of the mayhem. But the soldiers or monsters aimed their weapons and began shooting all the people. The citizens of Chicago ran but lost their lives to the maniacs with their professional demeanor. Dwight knelt to the cold concrete putting his hands to it letting the crowbar fall. His breaths were lost and his eye sight blurred as if death was playing a sick guess who game from behind.

He didn’t know what to do but wait and see what they would do. He dared not look again because the firing had stopped and the sight of all those people would cripple Dwight. He listened and heard a voice, “that garage, get up there and give us a bird eye view WILLIAMS.” Dwight’s eyes narrowed, Williams? But he heard racing boot steps even with the screams and occasional gun fire.

Dwight with his crowbar raced to the front of his SUV which was hidden from the poor lighting. The Williams jogged past without thinking of a loose person hiding. Dwight got three seconds of the soldier as he ran up the ramp. Dwight moved along the side of his vehicle as Williams went to the third level staying hidden. Williams kept going and Dwight found even a better spot with no vehicles around by a freight elevator.

It was very dark with the only light dead black from the missing power. Dwight along the wall peeping out occasionally breathed and thought the moments out, recalling history and trying to compare the moment with anything to come up with a solution, even though it was just him at the moment. But at least he could see where this was going. He just couldn’t come to a conclusion with it; it was too brief and incomplete for him to compare it to an invasion, terrorism, or even a bunch of psyche-ward patients.

“Damn it where did Williams go! Demetrius go get him!” the same voice rang out with heated frustration. ‘Demetrius?’ Dwight was confused now, American name, Russian name, and a Turkish angry voice. He had no clue who they were. But he stopped thinking and hid as the echoing boot stomps raced up the ramps. They came and went with no problems. But Dwight’s curiosity and fear grabbed him again, two times he was lucky to hide from ‘them’, but it’s only a matter of time before they search or use this place as a rally point.

Dwight’s next move was following Demetrius up the ramp giving a level of separation. Dwight knew this garage was huge with twenty levels of parking; part of it was hooked to his building. His ageing body lagged as he heard Demetrius get two levels ahead of him. “Damn you Williams where are you!?” yelled the Russian man as he climbed.

A voice answered, “Up here,” Williams, defiantly an American Georgia accent barked out three levels up. “What’s going on I am staying up here while you guys move out!” ‘They're not afraid at all’ Dwight thought, just yelling they’re plans and being so rushed.

Dwight followed not thinking what his next move is. But shots rang out to move him to a hiding spot. “More people!!!!” Williams screamed with a hint of fear.

“Hang on Williams!” Demetrius answered back. Dwight was so confused; it was such an upside down situation. Firing upon unarmed civilians, this is so wrong. No prejudices, just down right genocide. Than a Spartan history cross his mind, a slave based communist society. But he shook it to the back of his head as their gun fire kept going.

He moved up the levels get closer to the mayhem. Dwight was at the point where he could see the entrance of the stair tower and the dead co-workers. Fear took over his mind again an hour ago he was trying to get to this point, his abrupt funeral if he got to this point.

The two monsters both stopped to reload. A push of three men came flying at the monster. Dwight didn’t know what to say or thinking as the first was kick down. But the other two reached their goal and the wrestling match began. And it happened and throw Dwight on his rear. A grenade was loosened and went off ending all four men and silencing the stair tower as people climbed back up.

Dwight moved to all the corpses rubbing the soar out off. His stomach turned rapidly as he stood over the four mangled mass. He studied what was left of the monsters; he fumbled through their gear trying to salvage anything. He had a nice pack when he heard horrible news. Echoing boot stomps closing up the garage. So many it sounded like a rush of water……