Waiting For The End Of The World by Christopher Butt

“Sarah, you know I can’t watch the apocalypse without my morning coffee,” Jack said as he stumbled into the kitchen.

  Sarah shook her head and nodded toward the coffee maker. “Brewed and ready for you, Master," she said sarcastically.

  Jack grunted, smiled, and poured himself a generous cup. After sweetening it with cream, Jack joined Sarah in the main viewing room. Sarah was sitting beside a bank of video screens while working on a laptop on her lap. She was dressed this morning in an all-black jumpsuit with her blond hair pulled into a tight ponytail, her glasses sitting on top of her head.

  “What’s it like out there today?” Jack asked as he took a seat next to her.

  “Depends on where you’re looking.” She motioned to the video screens without taking her gaze from the laptop. “Locally, it’s still the same.”

  “The spells still holding?” he asked.

  “Still holding. How’re the generators and the physical defenses?”

  “Perfect,” he answered. “Checked and filled the generators last night. We’re tight as a drum.”

  Sarah nodded. Jack sipped his coffee. Silence filled the room. After a few minutes, Sarah spoke.

  “You can open the curtains now. The sun is out. Should be good viewing.”

  As Jack stood up, Sarah shook her head at his appearance. He was wearing jeans, his 2112 Rush t-shirt and high-top sneakers. It fit nicely with his long scraggly hair and ZZ Top beard. Jack walked to the window and pulled on the cord to open the curtains.

  The scene was horrific. Bodies littered the street while zombified people fed on them. Down the street, a tank rolled forward while soldiers fired upon the somewhat undead. Jack sipped his coffee and sighed.

  “How long do we think before we need to be ready?’

  Sarah typed for a moment before answering. She furrowed her brow and leaned back in her chair.

  “Two weeks, give or take. However, we will still need time for the masses to fall into hopelessness but not enough time for the local governments to try to take control.”

  Jack continued to stare at the carnage outside as Sarah continued.

  “I suspect martial law within few days, followed up by a mop-up operation. The powers that be will try to get a grip on the energy and resource situation.”

  Jack finished his coffee and sat down next to Sarah. She looked up from the laptop and smiled.

  “Soon, my love, soon.”

  They sat and watched for hours. They sipped tea and ate finger sandwiches while soldiers shot zombies point blank, the blood and horror unfolding like a bad movie. When evening came, Jack shut the curtains and headed toward the bathroom. In the shower, his thoughts invaded his brain as the hot water did the same to his muscles.

  When he finished, he stepped out of the bathroom and made his way to the bedroom. Sarah awaited him, dressed the way he liked her, the restraints in her hands. He returned her devilish smile and grabbed her. Laughter filled the room as they landed on the bed.

  Hours later, with Sarah sleeping peacefully, Jack climbed out of bed and headed to the basement. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned on the light and gazed upon his wares.

  Robes, sceptres, enchanting ingredients, and candles filled the room. He grabbed a purple robe and walked toward a large painting of a Lovecraftian creature. He knelt before it and prayed. He stood up and consulted a large tome that was open to an enchantment.

  Murmuring to himself, Jack closed his eyes and recanted the spell. He could feel the magic flow through him. He raised his hands and his body shook. Sweat poured down his face. His fingers quivered. He stared into the eyes of the creature. A final burst of power threw him off his feet and to the floor. He lay there breathing heavily.

  With an effort he got to his feet. Catching his breath, he turned back to the painting.

  “Oh, my Lord, may I be an excellent servant to you.”

  “You will be.” A voice from behind him spoke, startling him.

  Jack turned to see Sarah, dressed in her fur robe smiling at him.

  “By now, all the false prophets on street corners will have been rounded up. Let the world beat the hell out of itself for a while longer and they will welcome you with open arms.”

  “No chance of us being rounded up ourselves?” Jack asked.

  “There is always a chance,” Sarah answered as she walked toward him and grabbed his robe. “You, however, have the gift. Spells and wizardry. The weak-minded will follow you first, then slowly others will emerge to hasten your rise to the top.”

  “I guess I'm impatient,” Jack said.

  “Patience my dear, is a hard thing to learn. That’s why you have me. I will guide you, my love. Now, if you are finished with the protective spells...” Sarah smiled and pulled a restraint out her pocket and wrapped it around her wrists. “I believe I’m not finished with you yet.”

  Jack disrobed and followed his wife back to the bedroom.

  Jack could smell the coffee as he walked into the kitchen. His muscles were sore, and he was ravenous. Sarah was already working on her laptop as he poured them both a cup of coffee. Toast and marmalade followed and soon they were crunching away.

  “You certainly did a number on me last night,” Jack said smiling as he ate his toast.

  “I hope you’re not complaining,” Sarah said, returning his smile.

  “Not at all.” Jack stood and reached for the curtain.

  The sun shone on the bodies in the street. No zombies but soldiers, armed with rifles, kicked in the doors of the neighbourhood houses. Jack and Sarah watched as they continued with their breakfast. When two soldiers reached the pathway to their house, they paused, shook their heads and looked confused. Sarah turned on the speaker for the outside microphone.

  “Sarge, did we check this house already?” the young private asked.

  The sergeant, a huge man with a devastating face, glanced at the house and looked confused. He shook his head again and looked back at the house. He nodded to the private. “Yes, all clear. Move on to the next one.”

  Jack and Sarah watched as the soldiers walked away and toward the neighbours. Sarah smiled. “Nice job on the spells,” she said as they watched the soldiers pull three people out of the house across the street. After some yelling, the soldiers executed the inhabitants and left their bodies on the lawn.

  “The people won’t stand for this kind of treatment much longer,” Sarah said, watching the soldiers. “Are you ready to lead the new world order?”

  Jack smiled and nodded. He could feel the power within him. Sarah waved her empty coffee cup at him, and he grabbed it. As he walked toward the kitchen, Sarah grabbed the pendant on her necklace. It was the same shape as the creature in the painting. She whispered into it, “Yes, my lord. Once they start to follow him, it won’t be long before I become your servant. Men always forget that the wives have the real power in the world.”

  “What was that?” Jack asked as returned with the coffees.

  “Oh, just talking to myself,” Sarah said accepting the coffee. “Oh, look, they brought a huge truck to collect the neighbours. I hope they get that Mrs. Walliams up the road; she’s such a bitch.”

  Jack laughed as they clinked their coffee mugs and continued to watch the end of the world.