Crossroads of the Apocalypse (A Duck & Cover Adventure Post-Apocalyptic Series Book 5) Read online

  Crossroads of the Apocalypse

  A Duck & Cover Adventure, Book 5

  Benjamin Wallace

  A Duck & Cover Adventure Book 5

  Benjamin Wallace

  Copyright © 2019 by Benjamin Wallace.

  All rights reserved.

  From the pages of the best-selling Duck & Cover Adventures comes thirteen stories of those who survived the apocalypse. Some would go on to be heroes, others villains, some were dogs and will stay dogs, but they all must contend with the horrors of the new world and find a way to survive in the wasteland that was America.

  Get this laugh-out-loud collection of stories from the Duck & Cover Adventures post-apocalyptic series now when you sign up for my Readers’ Group.

  To get your copy of TALES OF THE APOCALYPSE and be the first to know about new releases and other exclusive content, you just need to tell me where to send it.

  SIGN UP HERE to get your free book now.

  For Patricia. It’s all for her.

  Acknowledgments

  I wanted to give a special thanks to Robert Fleenor for sharing his knowledge and experiences on the Mississippi to help make this a better story. I’m sure I’ve still made mistakes regarding navigating the rivers, but those mistakes are my own. Probably.

  1

  “It’s over, Invictus! We’re both going to fall,” the Librarian screamed as Niagara Falls roared behind him. “No one can stop it. But I’m going to kick your ass the whole way down.”

  The Great Lord Invictus rose back to his feet slowly, defiantly. His polished armor caught the spectrum of colored lights that shone upon the falls and reflected them back into the night with enough lens flares to make J. J. Abrams weep. The man was a monster in size, and his disposition matched. He towered over the Librarian. “I don’t think so. It’s one of you versus all of me. You don’t stand a chance.”

  The dog leapt from the ship’s wheelhouse, landed on the tyrant’s chest and brought the villain crashing to the deck.

  Drool leaked through bared teeth and coated Invictus’s armor as the beast snarled.

  “Perfect timing as always, Chewy.” The Librarian stood over the dog and gave the German Shepherd a pat on the head. The dog’s eyes never left her prey.

  The ship lurched to a halt as it ran aground on a rock beneath the Niagara’s surface. Metal rent and the shriek surrounded them as the sound blasted through the hull.

  Chewy and the Librarian were thrown off their feet, and sent crashing to the rusting deck of the derelict ship.

  Free of the dog, Invictus sprang to his feet as if his metal armor weighed nothing and rushed at his fallen opponent.

  The armored tyrant barreled into him just as the Librarian got to his feet. A grunt exploded from his lips as he was driven back across the deck into, and through, a stack of wooden crates. Wood shattered and cracked like uncomfortably close gunshots, and the boxes splintered as the two men fell into the wreckage.

  Invictus grabbed the Librarian by the throat and pulled him to his feet. The first punch split the Librarian’s lip.

  “You think you can stop me?” Invictus screamed.

  The second punch bloodied his nose.

  “You and your little dog?” He struck again.

  Chewy barked viciously in an attempt to help, but she had her own problems. Several of Invictus’s Legionaries had encircled the dog and were closing in with hesitant steps.

  “I’m the King of the World!” Invictus roared as he struck again and drove the Librarian to the ground. Invictus leaned in close and whispered, “You… You’re nothing but a peasant.”

  The Librarian rolled over and spit blood across the deck. Then he looked back up at the warlord and smiled. “Don’t look now, your majesty, but we peasants are revolting.”

  Invictus turned and looked beyond the Falls. On the side of the casino tower where he had made his castle, a massive screen lit up the night. Per his command, it had been broadcasting what was supposed to be the Librarian’s demise. Now it was showing the scene at the gates of Alasis. The population had risen up and was storming the massive barrier.

  The gates were forced open and the mob rushed into his capital. Invictus watched as half of his men were slaughtered. And the other half ran. He screamed at the images before him, “Fight, you cowards!”

  “It’s over, Invictus.”

  The tyrant turned.

  The Librarian was back on his feet. He wiped the blood from his mouth. “You’re through.”

  Invictus roared and took a step forward.

  A swell forced the ship free of its perch on the rock, and it resumed its race toward the edge of the Falls. The motion caused Invictus to stumble for a moment. Through great effort, he managed to stay on his feet, but then the Librarian was before him.

  The man unleashed a furious assault that found every weak spot in the tyrant’s armor.

  Invictus struck back, but every swing found only the frozen night air. The Librarian was impossible to hit.

  Invictus’s men weren’t faring any better. On land, they had all but surrendered. On the ship, the dog was running circles around them. As one bent down to grab the mutt, she slid under his legs and bit him in the ass. The guard stood with both hands on his rear and said, “Whoop!”

  The dog raced around behind him, jumped off his back and pushed him over the rail into the Niagara with a splash.

  The Librarian struck again and again, pausing only to remind the tyrant why each blow stung so much.

  “This is for everyone you’ve wronged,” he screamed, and landed another punch across the despot’s cheek.

  Invictus was turned by the blow’s force, and he saw that the massive television was showing it all. Blood dripped from his mouth on the twenty-foot screen, broadcasting his weakness to the world.

  “For everyone killed in your name!” The Librarian caught him under the chin with an uppercut that snapped his head back and knocked the helmet from his head.

  Invictus watched it bounce toward the rail and disappear over the edge as another swell sent the boat speeding closer to the edge of the Falls.

  “For every slave you’ve taken! For every child you’ve murdered!”

  Invictus had been beaten back against the bow. The Librarian spun him around and smashed his face into the rail. He then leaned in and whispered, “For me.”

  The boat ground to a halt. Invictus could see over the edge to the black mist below. Panic rose up in him and he began to scream. “We have to go! We’re going to fall! We have to jump!”

  “You want to be King of the World?” The Librarian grabbed a length of rope and lashed the tyrant to the front of the ship, face toward the abyss. “Well, here you go, Jack.”

  Another swell tossed the ship’s rear into the air and inched them closer to plummeting.

  Invictus screamed.

  Chewy barked, and the Librarian turned to see the dog standing over several fallen guards. Almost to a man, they were missing the seat of their pants. She woofed once more, and a piece of red and white polka-dotted cloth fluttered out of her mouth.

  “Now, there’s a good girl.”

  The ship rose once more and shoved the hulk another foot over the lip of the Falls.

  “It’s time to go, girl!” The Librarian shouted and raced to the top of the wheelhouse. He unlashed the hang glider and stepped into the frame. The loyal dog followed and jumped up into the Librarian’s arms.

  The metal shrieked once more as the river lifted the ship a final tim
e and sent it over Niagara Falls. The tyrant that had ruled a merciless army, overseen the murder or enslavement of thousands and ruled the post-apocalyptic world with an iron boot, screamed the whole way down.

  The Librarian and Chewy watched the ship twist itself into the pile of wreckage at the bottom of the Falls like an epic Tetris piece as they glided gracefully above the spectacle. They then turned their attention to the shoreline where the Resistance leaders had gathered to watch the end of their tormentor.

  “There’s one more thing I have to do, Chewy,” the Librarian said as he guided the unpowered wing toward the shore.

  He set the glider down gently next to Pride, the woman who had led the Resistance and stolen his heart. He freed himself from the hang glider and took her in his arms. Then, he kissed her deeply as his loyal friend barked happily behind him.

  The words The End faded up on the screen as the kiss faded to black.

  A beer bottle shattered and the television screen cracked a half second before the audience erupted in disapproval. There were some authentic “boos” coming from the crowd, but it was mostly screaming and swearing. The lights in the theater came up to reveal a sea of middle fingers.

  “That’s bullshit!” shouted several people.

  “Yeah,” another said, and folded his arms before clarifying, “That’s not how it happened!”

  Someone else yelled, “I want my money back!” After that the refund chant began and spread quickly throughout the old theater.

  Thomas Caine watched from the wings with fascination as the audience transformed from moviegoers into a mob before his eyes. It certainly wasn’t the response he had expected for the film. No one could have foreseen this. The other Librarian movies had been smash hits.

  The theater owner found him backstage and began to scream at him. “They’re going to tear my place apart! You’ve got to get out there and do something!”

  “Me?” Caine shouted back. “What do you expect me to do about it?”

  The theater owner was a brute of a man and planted a finger in Caine’s chest. “I don’t know and I don’t care, but you’d better stop them from wrecking my place. You already owe me for a new TV.”

  Caine put his hands up as if the finger in his chest was a gun and nodded his compliance. He looked around for his assistant. Lana was nowhere to be seen. Typical.

  The chant was building and only a fool would face it. But he knew that waiting would only make it worse. He stood up straight, put on his best smile and stepped onto the stage with a big wave.

  “Hello, Hannibal!”

  He ducked and the beer bottle intended for his face blew past his head and shattered on the wall behind him. Some of the splash came back and began to run down his neck. The sensation caused him to tense up. But the near miss seemed to quell the crowd for a moment, and he was finally able to get a word in.

  “It’s so great to see you all here,” he said, and clapped his hands together as if he had just embraced the entire audience in one big hug. “I wanted to thank each and every one of you for coming out today. Because without you, we wouldn’t be here. As you are no doubt aware, I am Thomas Caine and I play the Librarian in the Librarian film franchise.”

  The boos erupted again. There was some hissing. Middle fingers shot up out of unexpected places. But the crowd wanted more than their displeasure to be known. They wanted to get to the specifics, so the ruckus ebbed and flowed around individual grievances.

  “You ruined it!” a man in the front row shouted.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” Caine said. “Ruined what?”

  “That’s not how it happened!” yelled a woman somewhere in the middle of the theater. “The Librarian went over the Falls. There wasn’t a stupid hang glider.”

  “Yeah, and you don’t know what he whispered to Invictus. No one does. They couldn’t hear it.”

  A man stood up so fast that his popcorn filled the air. “That’s right. I was there in Alasis when it happened, and we couldn’t hear him.”

  “You were really there?” The woman next to him asked.

  “Well, no. But I know someone who watched it all happen, and they said you couldn’t hear what he whispered just before they went over.”

  “And, also,” another voice of anger chimed in, “you stole that bit about the king from Titanic.”

  Caine put his hands up to signal for calm. “It was an homage. It wasn’t stealing. It was supposed—” The arguments started to build into an unintelligible roar. “Okay, I understand. And obviously we took some creative license with the actual events, but—”

  “But, nothing. You changed the end so you could make another shitty sequel.”

  “Another shitty seq… okay, look.” He was tired of hearing this. “Every Librarian film has been more successful than the last. The people want sequels.”

  “Sequels suck,” was the response from a small, but rather loud, anti-sequel contingent in the back.

  “Yeah, it’s always sequels or remakes. Why don’t you do something original for once!”

  “Yeah! How about having a new idea?”

  “Because people love sequels,” Caine screamed out of frustration.

  The crowd was quick to argue but, as an actor, Caine knew how to project his voice and quickly won the floor.

  “People have always loved sequels. Can any of you tell me what the first major work of Western literature was?”

  The crowd was slow to answer. But, eventually, a timid hand went up in the back.

  Caine pointed to the raised hand. “Yes?”

  “Hu…Huckleberry Finn?”

  “Are you kidding?” Caine asked as the man quickly lowered his hand in embarrassment—as he should have. “It was The Iliad by Homer. Now, can anyone tell me the second major work of Western literature?”

  Another hand shot up in the back and the answer came in the form of a question. “What is Huckleberry Finn?”

  Caine could only blink at first. “No. It wasn’t Huck—it was The Odyssey. Also by Homer. And, it was the sequel to The Iliad. People have always loved a good sequel.”

  “No, we don’t!” said the first dumbass who had guessed Huckleberry Finn.

  “Oh, really? Okay. How many of you saw my last movie?”

  “Librarian 3 sucked.”

  “Yet here you are for four,” Caine said under his breath. “No, not Librarian 3. The Dying Fields. Where I played Alec, the farmer who was forced to venture into the wasteland to fulfill his dying wife’s final wish.”

  The crowd went blank. One brave voice said, “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “That’s because none of you saw it! You say you want something new and original, but you don’t. The truth is that people’s two favorite things are, one, bitching about sequels and, two, sequels. And not necessarily in that order.”

  The argument rolled over the crowd and he could see the thought sink into their angry, and ugly, faces. He had won the dispute. He had proven his point. But it didn’t matter.

  “But, this one sucked!” came the new argument.

  “Yeah, the Librarian didn’t get off the ship,” a woman shouted. “He died.”

  “Well,” Caine said. “We don’t really know if he died.”

  “Of course, he died,” argued a man in the back. “He went over Niagara fuckin’ Falls, you moron.”

  “They never found the body,” Caine countered.

  “That’s because it was beat to a pulp on a rock so much it probably ended up looking like your face,” a woman said.

  “Why do you have to be so mean, Karen?” the man next to her asked.

  Before Karen could defend herself, a large man in the front said. “I heard he lived, too. But that he left and headed down to South America.”

  “Ugh, no thanks, too many mosquitoes for me,” Karen said.

  Another woman behind Karen added her knowledge to the conversation. “I heard he changed his name and became a potato farmer.”

  A man behind her pe
shawed that notion. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. He’s dead. There’s no way anyone could survive that.”

  The woman snorted. “I’ll have you know that I know plenty of potato farmers. It’s not that dangerous.”

  “Not potato farming, you thick ditz. No one could survive falling off Niagara Falls.”

  “There’s no need for name calling,” said a man standing near Karen.

  “You’re right, that was uncalled for and I apologize,” the man said. “I’m just certain he’s dead is all.”

  “If he was dead…” a smaller man made his way through the crowd and didn’t finish his thought until he made it to the stage. “…explain the bounty.”

  “The bounty?” someone said with a laugh that was intended to hurt. “That’s an urban legend.”

  “What makes you so sure?” the smaller man shot back while trying to identify the speaker. But he had a hard time seeing over the crowd and eventually just let it go.

  “Because no one knows where you have to turn him in,” another audience member answered. “It’s like how filling a milk jug with soda can tabs would get you a hundred dollars.”

  “Are you serious?” another voice popped up. This one was really excited. “I must have three milk jugs’ worth of those things.”

  “Why in the hell do you have three milk jugs’ worth of tabs?”

  “You gotta collect something,” the man said with a shrug.

  “The bounty is not real. And neither is the milk jug thing. And besides… the Librarian is dead.” It was a rather ugly man spoke. His voice was gravelly enough to snake its way through the crowd and land at Thomas’s feet. “He went over the Falls, never to be seen again. Your movie is shit and you know it.”

  For a moment this appeared to be the final word. The crowd waited for someone to continue the dead-or-alive argument, but the way the ugly man spoke left little room for discussion.