Free Grief: Five Stories of Apocalyptic Loss by Michael Coorlim

Denial
     
    The riot swept through the city, organic, driven by the carnal urge to possess, to control, to destroy. This was its third day of existence, its third day of life, scouring streets with the hunger of an ant colony. Those who it swept over either fell to its fury or succumbed to the rising anxiety, the mounting dread, the directionless frustration that fueled it, becoming part of its strength, replacing the parts of it that had worn out or had been overcome by futility.
    Officer Lange braced herself against the mob, standing side-by-side, shield by shield with her fellow officers. Their high-impact polymer barriers held firm against the crush, the roiling beast buffing up against the wall created to channel it, to guide it. The police lacked the manpower to stop it, to even begin to contain it, so they did they best they could to send it where it could do the least amount of damage.
    Again and again the shield-wall shuddered, threatening to give. Lange found herself gritting and leaning into each impact even as her boots' traction started to give against the asphalt. For a terrifying moment she felt herself slipping. A firm hand from behind shored her up, gripping her by the elbows.
    The pressure against her shield abated, and she saw that Lieutenant Walker had been the one supporting her. She gave him a smile that faded as she took note of the fact that, overnight, their manpower had halved again. There was no second line, no one waiting and ready to step forward if she faltered, just a few officers walking behind their fellows, hoping to be in the right place at the right time.
    "Heard from the National Guard?" she asked.
    The lieutenant shook his head. "All I'm getting from dispatch are deployment orders. We've got to go reinforce the barrier at Renfroe and State."
    "What?" Lange turned and gestured towards the columned building behind them. "What about the courthouse?"
    "Guess it's not a priority anymore. We need to shore up defenses around W&P."
    Perez leaned against his shield, breathing heavily. "Guess the mayor thinks keeping the lights on is more important than an empty building."
    "I spent two days protecting this empty building." She glanced back at the courthouse, at the civic, state, and American flags high above it. It felt... wrong... to leave it behind, to leave it unguarded, to leave it to the mercy of the rioters. Like they were leaving behind more than just brick and mortar.
    "Trust me," Walker said. "You'll feel better about it when you're rotated out and can go home to a nice air-conditioned apartment."
    Lange glanced around at the other officers gathering up their riot gear. "When's that going to be? I've been on sixteen hours."
    "Think about all the overtime, Lange," Perez said with a humorless grin. "You'll be able to afford a first-class ticket to ground zero."
     
    ***
     
    Fourteen. Of the thirty officers that had been assigned to create a barrier in front of the courthouse two days ago, fourteen made their way down Renfroe. The street bore the scars of days of rioting. Storefronts had had their windows smashed out, their goods pillaged. Cars parked along the street were burnt-out wrecks. Postal boxes were tipped over. Even a few traffic signals had been toppled. Smoke in the distance and the wailing of sirens spoke of even worse damage further afield.
    They moved slowly, trudging, tired yet wary, alert for looters, for rioters, for the injured, for the opportunistic.
    "I saw SWAT helmets that last rush," Lange said quietly, glancing at the Lieutenant. "I hate to think about how they might have gotten a hold of them."
    "Casualty count is going to be high," Walker said.
    "I'm predicting somewhere in the vicinity of a hundred percent by the end of the month," Perez said in a shockingly casual voice, like it was nothing, like it was something you could just talk about.
    "Shut the fuck up, Perez," Lange snarled, a sudden heat of anger flushing through her fatigue.
    "Easy," Walker said. "How