Chapter 1
XX
Henry Evans shifted in his favorite seat, a big, luxurious leather chair, as he watched the murders on TV. The family's color television was brand-new, and it showed every death in awesome, gory detail. A gang of black men, all of them nearly naked, all of them bearing some insignia, cap, or badge of rank to show they had once belonged to the American military, had taken over some kind of television studio right here in Portland, and started the killings in a grotesque parody of Wheel-of-Fortune.
After all, no network would have ever aired this. No bunch of suits and ties would have ever had the sense and style required to allow people to get their brains blown out on live TV. Yet the huge black man wearing a loincloth and a Marine officer's cap did exactly that, again and again and again.
Mark spoke for the first time in nearly an hour. "I hope they all die."
"Got a lot of audience left, Mark," Henry said.
"No, I mean the black guys. It'd be fucking awesome if someone killed them, too."
The black man shot another white soldier, PFC Franklin Stern, and blood, brains and bone sprayed the wall nearby. Henry clapped, and so did Mark. They were up to sixty-two dead now.
"Why?" Henry asked. "Those black guys are just doing what I would."
"We would."
"Yes, we," Henry amended. "So why should somebody kill them? This is my favorite show."
"More death," Mark said. "I wanna see more death."
Suddenly, as if in answer to Mark's wish, several teams of soldiers in full combat gear, wearing chemical protection suits and gas masks, crashed in through the studio doors as the cameraman swiveled crazily in their direction, clearly taken by surprise. The roar of gunfire was instant, overwhelming. The soldiers who had just arrived shot everyone, and so did the black men, who dropped one by one as the camera fell over on its side.
"Holy shit," Henry said. "You oughta make wishes more often, Mark."
"Yeah," Mark said. He was watching the bodies fall, listening to the gunfire, the screams and moans.
Then the TV screen went blue, and a cartoon man was staring glumly at a cartoon TV that said "Sorry, we're having problems!"
"Fuck!" Mark shouted. "Fuck! I wanna see the rest of it! Turn that fucking thing back on! Henry! Turn it back on!"
"Show's over," Henry said bitterly. "They're not coming back."
"Goddamn it!"
"Hey, maybe we can watch General Starkey lying to everybody some more." Henry got up and switched around the channels, but nearly everything was off the air by now.
Starkey had made his last appearance several days ago, and the government's attempts to shut the media up were getting extremely brutal. They were barely able to hide what they were doing anymore as they blockaded roads everywhere across the USA and murdered reporters, but then, at this point, they had little need to hide it. Virtually everyone, everywhere was dead or dying at this point.
"I wish we had a helicopter and a teleporter and a time machine," Mark said. "I wish we could see it all, over and over, and record fucking everything on VCR."
"Do you need to change your underwear again?" Henry asked.
"Do you?"
Henry had felt himself go after twenty-five murders on live TV, but Mark had made it only ten. The boys had each run upstairs to change, taking turns, hurrying like hell so they wouldn't miss anything.
"No, I'm okay." Henry smirked. "I don't get excited as easy as you, Mark."
"God, I wanna fuck something!" Mark groaned. He and Henry had each gotten their first two days ago when they had broken into a house a few miles away, where they had taken turns raping this crazy hot mom who was, somehow, not even sick. Once they were done, they had spent most of the afternoon cutting her up… and her stupid, dying kid.
Henry had loved the whole thing, every second. The fact that civilization itself was clearly falling apart, collapsing faster every day, was just amazing. It meant Henry could finally do anything he wanted. He could torture, he could steal, he could kill, and thanks to the fact that the superflu had waited until Henry had just started adolescence, he could rape, too.
Only problem was, Mark now complained pretty often that he hadn't gotten laid in the past ten minutes. Ever since Henry had let Fleetwood Hall save Mark from his own bitchy, goody-two-shoes self, ever since Mark had killed his own father and come back home from Arizona, he had been wild with eagerness to embrace his new life. He relished everything he once would have been horrified to do or even consider. But Mark was a little too eager, and Henry was always having to be the cool and collected one versus Mark's passion and fiery temper.
"There's gotta be other girls who're still alive," Henry said. "We just need to be patient, Mark."
"Yeah, I know."
"Okay. So are you ready?"
"Yes."
"Then let's do it."
Henry and Mark left for the kitchen, where they had assembled lethal drinks of water using a couple of Henry's favorite chemicals. Only one cup was left filled now. Wallace was already buried in the backyard, and Henry had insisted on letting Connie lie in her open grave for a while before they buried her.
Only Susan was left. Only Henry's Mom.
She was sweating profusely, practically soaking the sheets around her, even with the AC still running. Henry regarded her pitilessly as he entered the master bedroom. For once, Susan seemed to be halfway aware of her surroundings, but as with the last two members of the family, Henry and Mark refused to allow anyone or anything to kill Susan but them.
"Henry," Susan said, turning her head to look at them. "Mark." Her voice was faint and weak.
"Mom," Henry said. He sat down beside her on the bed, and heat radiated out from her like a furnace.
"Mom," Mark said, keeping up with the charade that Wallace and Susan were his adopted parents. They were, sure, technically. But the fact was that Mark didn't give a damn. He was beyond the need for parents and always would be.
"I think, I think… you'll have to… try to make it… on your own, boys," Susan managed to say. Her voice broke as she said it. "I don't think I'll be here much longer."
"You're sick, Mom," Henry said. He offered her the poisoned cup. "I brought you some water."
"Thank you," Susan said, as rivers of sweat poured off her. "You're so sweet, Henry."
"I know, Mom."
Susan took the drink, and down it went in one gulp.
"Henry, did- did you get your father buried out back? And Connie?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Nobody's coming from the funeral home. Not from the hospital."
"No, Mom."
Susan let out a sob. "I'm so scared, boys."
"Don't be, Mom. You'll be with God soon."
Behind Susan, Mark made a face. Henry shot him the bird, and Mark stifled a laugh.
"I will miss you. Both of you. I love you… so much."
"I know, Mom."
"Thank you for being such a good son, Henry. Can you promise me you and Mark… you'll take care of each other?"
"Yes. We will, Mom. Always." That, at least, Henry actually meant.
"I love you, boys."
"We love you, too, Mom," Mark lied.
Henry, who had been incapable of loving anyone since the day he was born, gave Mark an approving smile. Mark had picked up the act so well. And for all the lies they told, the two boys were completely honest with each other at all times. They looked forward to the new world they were about to explore, the time they'd spend together, free of all restrictions, just doing anything they pleased. Captain Trips had set Mark and Henry free, given them the life they had always longed for.
Although it would've been nice if the superflu had left all the hot babes alive.
Susan had no more to say, it turned out. Henry had hoped she'd quiet down and die already, and sure enough, she did. She closed her eyes, slept, and died exactly half an hour after Henry administered the poison and sleep aid. It was as merciful a death as he had ever given anyone.
As they started to carry the body outside, Mark said, "John LaFleur wasn't sick the last time we saw him."
"No, he wasn't," Henry replied.
"You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Okay. Let's go pay him a visit. Should be fun."
Mark smiled.
XX
A/N: 9-1-2019.
I got the idea for this story while I was reading "The Stand" by Stephen King, or possibly watching the 1994 TV miniseries. It occurred to me that the most "modern" setting of "The Stand" is in that miniseries, as a show or work can be presumed to be set in the present date at the time of its production, provided we're not talking about "Lord of the Rings", and unless the work specifies otherwise.
And, it so happens that "The Evil Angel" wraps up in 1994, right around the summertime if I recall correctly. So Mark Evans would have just moved to Maine after being adopted by Wallace and Susan when the plague hits and kills 99.4% of all humans on the planet. My belief is that Henry (and Mark, following "The Second Face") would be delighted to see the superflu hit. Partly because it would erase all restrictions on their behavior, as no order or authority figures would exist anymore. They also are both fascinated by and attracted to death, and would want to both see as much of it happen as they could, as well add some deaths themselves.
I don't know if Henry and Mark would be that interested in serving Randall Flagg, though. They sure would have no interest in going to see Mother Abigail and the Boulder Free Zone, but Flagg rules over Las Vegas as an omniscient dictator and his followers are in actuality little more than slaves. That would not appeal to Henry or Mark at all. They wouldn't want a job under Flagg- they would want HIS job. Flagg would be pretty thrown by two middle-school-age boys who are that ruthless and ambitious, so he might wind up seeing them as a threat unless they managed to keep their true thoughts hidden from him. And if anyone could deceive Flagg besides Tom Cullen, the sociopathic Henry and Mark Evans could.
The idea for this story originated around 4-1-2018, when I created the Word document for this story. It took a year and four months, almost five, for me to get around to actually writing a first chapter. I hope any fans of "The Good Son" and/or "The Stand" who read this story happen to like it. No matter what, I value feedback highly, so feel free to leave whatever commentary or criticism you like.
Chapter 2 is already completed, just needs to be edited some more. I will post it within the next few days.