The green light from the aurora illuminated her face, lifting the veil of darkness which had covered them both for the past few minutes. She had an expectant smile, which was even more alluring because of the green vaporous radiance above. He could not restrain his feelings for her any longer. Leaning closer, he kissed her.
First surprised, then she was fully accepting.
Slowly, he pulled away. “I’m sorry, but I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you.” He sounded repentant, but felt no regret.
She kissed him back.
When the Clear Lake fireworks started, both smiled at each other, not just from the pleasurable kissing they shared, but because they both felt like they were part of an overdone ending to a romantic movie. Wanting more, they kissed each other again.
The foreboding green auroras were lost in the smoke and haze of the fireworks, and any concerns about them were lost in the fog of their kissing and newfound love.
16.
Worrying
As Max finished unloading his supplies in the warehouse, carefully stacking them in their allotted areas, he was lost in thought considering if he forgot anything. He felt like he had done just about everything he could to provide for their survival of what he knew was perhaps coming as early as today.
He just wished he could do something for all the others. So many would die from what was about to happen. Not right away, but in months from now. Mexico would be a little better off than the US, but even this generation of Mexicans was more and more like their American counterparts, relying on supplies and services that were delivered just-in-time. This method of delivery of goods and services was very efficient in a diverse, global economic world with lots of technology. However, it meant when the delivery systems stopped, people on average only had a week’s worth of food, and even less water.
When the panic starts, not at first, but in a few weeks, fueled by a realization that help is not on the way and their fear and pangs of hunger take over, then it would get really ugly. Neighborly love and friendship would be replaced with survival, not only for self, but also for one’s family. However, what really caused Max to lose sleep lately is the result of when weeks turn into months. That’s when the mass death would occur. What life wasn’t taken by disease, which would be rampant, would be lost when neighbors killed neighbors for a few morsels of food, or even one drink of water. Then there would be the gangs. Human nature included the ability to commit deplorable acts against one another. Those wired with one too many Y chromosomes or with a few extra brain cells and a Napoleonic complex would assemble like-minded miscreants, who together would rape, murder, and take from others.
He dreaded those days, which he knew were as inevitable as each day’s sunrise and sunset. What would he and his friends become when he/they took lives to protect their own? Would they become the cold-blooded murderers he reviled? Would they eventually forget their humanity and their love for others, being only concerned for their survival at all costs?
He believed that these concerns separated him from the extreme survivalist, who desires the apocalypse, drawn by a longing for a license to murder with impunity and embracing the accompanying loneliness that would follow civilization’s downfall. Like most preppers, Max prepared so that he and those whom he cared for could survive.
He wanted no part of the coming apocalypse. Nevertheless, whether he wanted it or not, he was ready for it.
“Done,” he said out loud.
Max would have loved to sleep now. He desperately needed it, having only had a few hours of sleep the last few days of long driving and lots of physical exertion. He was exhausted, but the Kings’ party was minutes away, and as exhausted as he felt, he made a promise. Much more, living with so many worries, he needed the mental diversion and to be with his friends.
He exited from the front door to keep up appearances, just in case someone might be watching. After locking up the beach warehouse, he stopped and stood on the street, looking with admiration at his years of work and some of his finest preparations. He was sure no one could tell that this home was any different from any of the others on this block. He had a lot pride in the planning, its design, and the workmanship that went into this house. However, worries always filled his mind with doubt, and an overriding need to be careful. So, even though he had conducted this exercise what seemed like a thousand times, he once again scrutinized the house objectively, making sure there were no breaches in his security and that no one could see the secrets within. No, he was sure. It looked damned good.
He started walking toward his beach home, but then another sensation stopped him cold. He felt as if someone was watching him. He hesitated and then turned around, facing the beach warehouse once more. His prideful smile now erased, he started to look around the street and then to other houses. He was probably just being paranoid and was just second-guessing himself, but his life and the life of the Kings depended on his being careful. He searched for something out of place, or someone who didn’t belong. There were two different trucks he didn’t recognized parked near the beginning of their block, but that was not uncommon with so many visitors to this place and a couple of houses being rented to people he didn’t know. Out the corner of his eye, he sensed some movement at Feinstein’s bedroom window, but immediately dismissed this as well. There was no one there. He was tired. The movement was in his mind.
He turned and walked through his beach house gates and into his home to clean up and relax a little. It was time to celebrate his preparedness. After this, he believed they might never again have reason to celebrate. He was right.
17.
Prying Eyes
Judas Feinstein was always leering at his neighbors. Plying either his binoculars or his telescope, he searched for hours each day, often feeding his fat jowls, but never removing his eyes from his prey. This was his Internet. Like surfing the web, he never knew what he was searching for, until he found it, or them. But like any skill, exercised over the years, he was expert in knowing his neighbors’ windows, terraces, and pools better than they did. He relished invading their private lives unknowingly with his prying eyes. His rewards were abundant, as he often found a neighbor or two without clothes or in the middle of an argument. Occasionally, he would catch others who believed they were hidden on the beach, or in their driveways, or in their cars, doing things they shouldn’t. His eyes searched everywhere and anywhere, hoping for some action.
Judas also had his favorites, those whose routines he had memorized. He pointed his prying eyes towards his two favorite dykes, Eve and Alice, who lived full-time in RP, three doors down at 20. They often loved to sun in the nude on their terrace, feeling safe, while he would stare at their bodies. Of the two, the youngest — he called her Eve even though she could have been Alice — was his most desired. Judas knew every curve and blemish of Eve’s beautiful body, often glistening in the sun from sweat and tanning oil. If he were really lucky, he would catch them in their love making.
A noise below interrupted his interlude. He looked down and to his left and recognized his strangest neighbor, Maxwell Thompson. He met him a couple of times and hated him from the beginning, mostly because he never told Judas what he did, and his curtains were always drawn so that he could never see in. Like his business is more important than everyone else’s. He also hated Thompson because his large inland house, next door to him, had the highest terrace on their block. Not only did it obstruct his seeing summer sunrises, it also restricted him from seeing the terrace and most of the house of Max’s next-door neighbor, Clydeston. Judas often wondered what kind of erotic show he was missing, especially since Clydeston always had some sort of hottie for a girlfriend. One night last year, Clydeston bought two hotties home. He could see them get out of Clydeston’s Ferrari convertible, but he couldn’t see anything else because of his damned neighbor Thompson.