Class of Armageddon

Jessica Kraken

 Jessica Kraken was in Gary, IN. She opened a bar there where she sung every other night. There was a show on the nights in between. At least, that's what I've been hearing.

It made sense. She loved Chicago, and would've moved to Gary since it was taking its place. Chicago was destroyed, twice in as many centuries. Nobody felt like rebuilding it. Gary became the large entertainment city in the Midwest; many of the factories becoming clubs.

When I arrived, it wasn't nearly as exciting as I had expected. Actually, it still looked like Gary. Only much more rundown. Gang activity was rampant. I've had several instances where I've had to defend myself and have become quite impressive with my two pistols and shotgun. I'm also a crack shot with a rifle. I have to be. Animals are so rare now; you don't get a second chance very often. I felt safe, despite the obvious dangers. Then again, it wasn't that safe anywhere else.

I carried with me a knapsack, a large one. I kept food and supplies inside it, and my weapons on the outside, loaded. My rifle was laid across the top, and the shotgun strapped to the bottom. Whenever I was in a town and left the sack at wherever I was staying, I had a sling to keep the shotgun at my back. The pistols were at my hips unless cleaning or sleeping, but they were close by even then.

I asked a few people who looked trustworthy enough for directions to Jess' bar, which was a bit difficult since I never learned the name. The details were wrong, too. As it turned out, she sang, along with two other girls, Sunday night through Thursday night. It was a strip club/burlesque Friday and Saturday.

When I walked in, she was on the stage, singing a song she wrote in high school, one of my favorites. I sat down in a table in the back, set my sack down, and put the shotgun in its sling. A waitress came by, wanting to know if I wanted anything to drink. I ordered something strong. I was surprised when it came back with ice. Most places didn't bother with keeping ice. It wasted too much electricity. But even at the early hour that it was, the bar was packed, so I guess they could afford the ice.

Jessica was wearing a dress that used to be pretty. It was faded and stained, with rips and tears here and there. But given the state of what was worn by everyone else, it was classy. She looked gorgeous in it. The entire time that I knew her, this was the first time I'd seen her in makeup. She really fit the stage.

When the song ended, she saw me. She grinned slightly and went and told the piano player something. She came back to the mike, and they performed "Someone to Watch Over M". I don't know if it might have been a message to me or what, but it was the most beautiful version of the song I had ever heard.

The waitress came over, noticing my attraction to Jess. "Get in line."

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"You think you're the only guy in here who wants that?" She looked like her voice should have been raspy from years of smoking, but it sounded like she was one of the singers. She smiled crookedly. "About half the guys in here want a chance at her." That didn't surprise me.

"How often do you get the line 'I used to know her in high school'?" I asked, figuring that I wasn't the first person to say that. Possibly the first one telling the truth, though.

"It's usually they used to date her, but we get that sometimes. This is her last song for now. If you can get to the bar," she nodded her head towards the bar, which was full and looked like there were lines, "you can talk to her then."

The song ended to a round of applause and hollering. Jess walked off the stage, with five or six guys crowding her, trying their luck, and went to the bar. Before taking orders, she scribbled something on a napkin and gave it to the waitress. The waitress came over to me and gave me the napkin. It was an address and time. I asked the waitress for directions to the address and the nearest supply store, ordered a drink for the road, and took off.