Daft Punk, Get Lucky
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For the purpose of the peace and security of our nation, our families and our hope for tomorrow, I have declared a national emergency and enacted Martial law. Shelter in place until further notice. Food, water and medical care will be made available to the public at designated locations, dates and times which will be announced by local authorities following my message.
Stand strong, America! Stand together. Stay calm and follow the instructions of your local authorities. Together, we will get through this difficult time. We shall overcome even this.
It had been three days since Mary Elizabeth Arlington had heard the emergency Presidential broadcast, four days since the failure of electronic banking transactions and the lock down on the internet, and five days since trading had been halted on the NYSE after a 10 percent dip.
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She adjusted the rear view mirror and checked her lip stick. Metallic Strawberry. Her smile was perfect. She was hot.
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Mary tuned her radio to the station indicated on a large sign at the entrance of the distribution center. Her DHS and national identity cards were duct taped to her driver side window. The former entitled her to double rations.
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Someone honked their horn from behind her car. Mary rolled her eyes.
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Mensch!
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In front of her, 100 cars waited anxiously in the priority lane for National Guardsmen to distribute the emergency rations: two 5 gallon bottles of water, 12 MREs, three 15 oz can of beans and a small bag of rice. That was the standard ration.
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On the other side of the distribution center, the queue for ordinary civilian distributions was ten blocks long.
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An announcement repeated on her radio.
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Please stay inside your vehicle. Unlock your doors. Guardsmen will directly load the supplies into your vehicle when you reach the designated loading zones.
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Do not leave your vehicle for any reason. All violators will be sentenced without exception. If you need medical assistance, please proceed to the medical center which is located at the other side of the distribution center.
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Once your car is loaded, immediately leave the loading zone in a calm and orderly manner. Thank you.
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Mary slid a bible study CD into the dash slot – she would put this wait to good use.
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An hour later, Mary rolled up to the loading zone. Her bible study ended with a quotation from Revelations.
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Fear none of those things which thou shalt suffer: behold, the devil shall cast some of you into prison, that ye may be tried; and ye shall have tribulation ten days: be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life.
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A guardsmen opened her back door and proceeded to load six boxes into the black seat of her black BMW X6.
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“Nice car, Miss. See you next week…” the soldier remarked before he closed the door and waved her to move forward.
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Mary smiled. He was cute and he smelled nice. Like lemons and verbana.
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It’d be nice to have a man like that at home, she thought to herself.
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A real man – not like her husband who was ten years older than her, diabetic and a stroke survivor. It’s not like her husband’s money was good for anything now…
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What she needed now was a strong, young man and a good…
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Mary drove forward and out of the distribution area. She slid another CD into the dash slot – Daft Punk.
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Two blocks down the road, she stopped at a stop sign. A woman walked in front of her car carrying a hand written sign in one hand and an infant in her other arm. The sign read, Please help, my child is hungry.
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The back door opened and a man grabbed a box and handed it off to another man. Then, he grabbed another box. He smelled like piss and sweat.
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Fuck!
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I didn’t lock the door, Mary thought to herself as she stepped on the gas and hit the woman with the hand written sign.
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The woman’s face hit the hood and then her body went under Mary’s car. The child was thrown on the windscreen. Her little face was pressed against the glass in front of Mary’s face. Her innocent, big blue eyes met Mary’s tear-filled eyes.
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This doesn’t make me a bad person, Mary thought to herself as she jerked the steering wheel – hard left and right. The blue-eyed infant girl slid off at the car at 60 mph and the back door slammed shut.
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Mary remembered the wisdom of the Desiderata as she pushed the door lock button.
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I’m a child of God and I have a right to be here…
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Note: My attempts to write flash fiction are mostly inspired by John Magnet Bell of Start Your Novel.
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More Flash Fiction by Stan Faryna
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The unofficial blog of Stan Faryna 
Good to see you writing fiction again.
Thank you for your encouragement, Betsy!