by Akart, Bobby
“He didn’t trust her?”
“Oh, no. He trusted Kristi. It was the boys he didn’t trust. He’d always remind me that he was a teenage boy once, and he remembered what went through his mind.”
Chapman laughed and pointed at the tree. “You guys carved your initials in the tree, but the bark grew over it.”
“Yeah, that happened many years ago. It was kinda symbolic of how a marriage evolves. As you grow comfortable with one another, the love you share kinda falls under the surface, but it’s always there. The bark of this apple tree represents its life and the protection it needs to survive. This farm, and the family we have, acts like our bark.”
“Boone bark,” said Chapman with a smile.
“There you have it,” his mom added. “When this is all over, you and Isabella can start a new business here at the farm—Boone bark. I don’t know what that will be exactly, but it has a nice ring to it.”
Chapman gave his mom a big hug this time. She was gonna be all right. The rain picked up and he tried to lure her away from the tree to head for the house.
She resisted as she continued to speak by reciting a Bible verse in the Book of Genesis. “Seven days from now I will send rain on the Earth for forty days and forty nights, and I will wipe from the face of the Earth every living creature I have made.”
Despite the fact Chapman had been raised in the church as a child, once he went off to college and became scientific-minded, he’d strayed from his Christian beliefs. He recalled the verse related to Noah and the building of the Ark.
Sarah continued. “God gave Noah a week to build the ark and get everything inside he would need during His coming wrath. No matter how you interpret it, the intent was to eliminate the human race except for Noah and his family.”
Chapman gulped and decided to tread carefully. He wanted to listen to his mother and be supportive, but he also wanted to keep her mind based on reality. “That would take a lot of rain, Mom.”
She laughed and held her cupped hands out to allow the rain to puddle in them. Then she symbolically drank the rainwater. “Son, it hasn’t stopped raining in four days. Not a single moment. I know you understand climate and weather, but I know farming. Droughts happen for days on end. That’s a given. But I can’t recall seeing a nonstop downpour over four days in a row in, well, as far back as I can remember.”
Chapman searched his memory for an example and couldn’t immediately think of one either although he was sure it hadn’t happened in Indiana before. “I’d give anything to be able to pick up the phone and call the Weather Center in Atlanta, but nobody would be there to pick up the call.”
“It wouldn’t matter, son. This is different.”
“Nah, Mom. It’ll let up eventually.”
She glanced up at the sky again, furrowed her brow, and then looked her son in the eye. “Not this time, and I think you know it.”
Chapter 27
Riverfront Farms
Southeast Indiana
The Boone family solemnly went about the process of planning a funeral on short notice without the aid of modern communications. Chapman was dispatched to Squire Boone Caverns to check on accessibility to the grave site. The cavern tour portion of the attraction wasn’t as secured as some of the structures like the gift shop, the candle and soap cabins, or the zipline cabin. Chapman determined he could gain access without causing damage to the property, sufficient enough for everyone to gather nearby during the burial.
Levi wanted to carve a headstone out of a slab of a hickory tree he’d cut in the spring while stockpiling seasoned firewood. He’d left several of the larger parts of the trunk to make tables for the barns and cabins on Riverfront Farms. He hustled off after he had breakfast to get started on the task, which was a relief to Chapman and Kristi, who didn’t want to address the issue of the bank’s demand letter.
Kristi and Tommy drove to the farms closest to the Boones’ home and shared the bad news with the family’s longtime friends. After accepting their condolences and promises to spread the news about the funeral, the duo moved on to the next location until they finished their morning in New Amsterdam.
By early afternoon, everyone but Levi had gathered in the living room to talk about the funeral.
Chapman pulled Carly aside and spoke to her about his brother. “How’s he holding up?”
Carly shrugged; the frown on her face spoke volumes. “Better than I am, to be honest. Maybe it’s because he came to grips with it on the way back from Fort Wayne.”
Chapman wasn’t so sure. “Yeah, maybe. It does seem like his mood swings are a new thing. He wasn’t really like that before…” Chapman’s voice trailed off. He wasn’t sure what Carly had been told about Canada and the trip back toward Indiana.
She stood a little taller and faced Chapman. “Do you mean before his father’s death or before he almost died half a dozen times getting home to his family?” Her tone was bitter.
Chapman lowered his head and kicked aimlessly at a dust bunny at his feet. “He told you what happened? He wasn’t sure he was going to.”
“I mean, I think he was completely honest. If he wasn’t, god knows what he left out.”
“Okay,” began Chapman. “He’s had a lot to deal with, and I guess that accounts for his changed moods.”
Carly shook her head side to side as she spoke. “You’ve been away most of the time for the last several years. To be honest, Levi is more like your mom and dad than either you or Kristi. He loves the Boones’ love of the land and adventure. He inherited your mother’s strong will and, believe it or not, her anxiety.”
“Really?” Chapman was surprised by this.
She nodded. “In the last several years, I’ve caught him waking up with cold sweats. Sometimes, he has intense dreams, causing him to thrash about and moan. When I wake him, he doesn’t remember what he was dreaming about.”
Chapman took a deep breath and hesitated before he asked the next question. “Carly, I have to ask. Are the two of you, um, you know, okay?”
“Come on, Chapman. Yes, we’re okay. Better than okay. I really think he consumed himself with taking care of this farm. Sure, Dad still ran things, but Levi could tell he was being groomed to take over one day, especially since you and Kristi had moved on.”
Chapman bristled at her implication. “We didn’t move on. We pursued careers, that’s all. Levi could’ve done the same.” He stopped and caught himself before he went further. He and Kristi both agreed Levi’s relationship with Carly had doomed any prospects of college or a life away from the farm.
She appeared sad and started to walk away before Chapman gently reached for her arm.
“Listen, there’s no need to have this kind of conversation on this day, or any other. We all love each other as a family, and we’ve never acknowledged any type of hierarchy. We all have our own strengths and contributions, especially going forward. In case you haven’t noticed, there isn’t a Weather Channel right now, and all of the animals at the zoo ran off. Kristi and I are unemployed, basically, with new friends to add to the mix. We’ve got to stick together to survive what’s yet to come.”
“What exactly does that look like?” asked Carly, who managed a smile. “Pioneer days?”
“Maybe. Only time will tell. In the short term, I think we have another threat to deal with, and that’s Bully Billy.”
Carly raised her eyebrows and nodded. She glanced toward the living room and the foyer to ensure Levi hadn’t returned. “I’ve told him nothing about what happened with Randy and that meth-head deputy. Levi would lose his mind if he knew about that.”
“Yeah, we talked about it last night, and we kinda have a plan to break it to him easy-like. With him off working on Dad’s gravestone, we’ve managed to avoid the issue. After the funeral, however, we’re all gonna have to sit down and talk about what to do.”
Suddenly, the door swung open, catching everyone’s attention. Levi stood on the porch with his father’s grave marker held against
his chest. It smelled of hickory and burnt wood from where he’d used a propane torch to etch his father’s name into it.
The dramatic entrance caused the family to cry again.
Chapter 28
Cedar Glade
Billy Clark’s Residence
Corydon, Indiana
The rains continued with no signs of letting up. Joella Clark was now on the FEMA Region V distribution list. Each day, the FEMA Daily Operations Briefing was hand delivered by a series of couriers dispatched from Chicago throughout the five-state area that included Illinois, Indiana, Minnesota, Ohio, and Wisconsin. The dispatch was only her second since taking over the reins of Corydon, and according to the courier, it would be her last for some time.
The briefing was divided into sections, including significant incidents and threats, severe weather warnings, and space weather. This particular report was dominated by the ramifications of the incoming solar storms and the geostorms expected to engulf much of the planet.
After reading it with her morning coffee, she summoned one of the deputies assigned to guard her and told him to get the car ready. She needed him to notify Sheriff Clark to meet her at Billy’s house immediately.
Thirty minutes later, after fighting the growing crowd that surrounded both her and Billy’s homes each day despite the inclement weather, Joella was reviewing the daily briefing while her brothers read over her shoulder.
“Okay, I understand about this Faraday cage business,” said Billy, who wandered away from his desk to watch Indian Creek continue to encroach upon his backyard. He pressed his face against the window to look at his elevated foundation, wondering if the creek would rise high enough to flood his house. He shrugged and turned back to his siblings. “In fact, before the power plug was pulled, I researched whether a bank vault might be able to act as a shield for electronics during these solar events. Ours is as old as the bank. It’s not the new kind of vault made of solid steel. Now, that would be sweet. However, it was built with interlaced rebar and poured solid with concrete, at least as far as the plans show.”
“It’s the best we’ve got,” said Randy. “The question is what do we put it in it?”
Joella shrugged and began to reel off some common-sense electronic devices. “Laptops, two-way radios, cell phones, desktop computers, and ham radios.”
“How about medical equipment?” asked Billy. “Imagine if we’re the only town for miles that has functioning operating room gizmos. We could charge a fortune for basic treatments!”
Joella shook her head. “You really suck, you know it?”
“You know I’m right, Jo.”
She chuckled. “It is a good idea but for the wrong reasons. Anyway, Randy, can you assign a deputy to get with the clinic and transport as many of their medical devices as possible to the bank?”
“Well, hold on, Jo,” said Billy, holding his hands up to chest height. “Shouldn’t the bank receive some kind of remuneration from the city or FEMA for, you know, storage fees?”
Joella leaned back in Billy’s desk chair and swiveled slightly. She seemed to be channeling her pompous brother as she spoke. “Do you want me to seize the bank under the powers granted by the martial law declaration?”
“You can’t do that!” he protested.
“Watch me!” A hollow threat, but nonetheless effective.
Billy thought for a moment and then acquiesced. “Okay, fine. But the bank will be submitting its reasonable bill for storage.” He emphasized the word reasonable, which could easily be translated to hold onto your wallet.
“Good,” continued Joella. “We need to move quickly. Supposedly, some parts of the Northern Hemisphere are already feeling the impact of the geomagnetic storms. We can’t avoid them, so we need to prepare.”
“When?” asked Randy.
“This afternoon and thereafter. Possibly for days.”
Randy left the room and headed for the front door to summon one of his deputies. When he opened it, the sound of the local Corydon residents complaining about the Clarks’ heavy-handed treatment seeped into the house.
Billy heard it and turned to his sister. “Why can’t we cordon off the area, or whatever, to get these idiots away from my house?”
“As long as they stay up on the road, they’re on public property,” replied Joella. She glanced outside at the rain.
“Yeah, and what about this damned rain? This house is old, and I’m not sure the foundation can handle the creek flooding the basement.”
“Billy, the weather’s nuts all over. They had a blizzard along coastal Carolina the other day. The worst of it seems to be all the flooding. The levies in New Orleans have broken, so much of the city is underwater. Some of the cities along the lower Mississippi River, like Biloxi and Memphis, are being evacuated.”
Randy returned to the room and interrupted their conversation. “Okay, my people are on it. Jo, I’ll have your deputy take you to the city and retrieve all of the computers that you need. Billy, you’ll need to meet us at the bank. My guys will help you move whatever electronics you want stored as well. All of this needs to be wrapped up by early afternoon.”
“Why? ’Cause of the solar storm thing?” asked Billy.
“Uh, no. Because I’m told they’re gonna bury Squire Boone later this afternoon. I think we should be there, don’t you?”
Billy let out a hearty laugh. “I like the way you think, Sheriff!”
Chapter 29
ALMA
Atacama, Chile
Dr. Allie McKeon had instructed her JAO team to go home. By home, she meant all the way home, not just to their temporary housing in the nearby towns beyond the Atacama Desert in the Chilean mountains. Only three of nine complied with her request. It was hard for her to punish their insubordination. If she were in their shoes, she’d want a front-row seat to one of the greatest catastrophic events to befall modern man.
They were tracking the waves of solar matter intruding Earth’s weakened atmosphere, like deep ocean detection buoys following the progress of a tsunami. The geostorms struck the planet with varied degrees of intensity and in locations that allowed them to have inconsistent, unpredictable impacts.
Earth’s magnetosphere was under assault. The initial solar winds punched the planet in the gut while the trailing blast of heat energy from the coronal mass ejections erupting from the solar disk knocked the Northern Hemisphere to its knees. Dr. McKeon continued to receive reports from her team, as well as data from similar observatories around the world, at least those that were still operating.
Like a punch-drunk boxer unable to admit defeat, Mother Earth stood there and took blow after blow. Not sucker punches or a sneaky left hook to her blindside. This was nothing short of a pummeling, with each strike hitting the Earth square in the jaw when her defenses were at their weakest.
Dr. McKeon notified NORAD at Cheyenne Mountain about what to expect. These geostorms were going to come in rapid succession, so the Northern Hemisphere would not be spared. Although none of them registered in strength and intensity as the Impactor, the name given to the strongest solar storm known to man, the Carrington Event of 1859, the devastation wrought would be unprecedented due to the weakened magnetosphere and the planet’s reliance upon modern technology.
The first active region produced a low-level X-class flare that had just hit Europe near her homeland, Great Britain. Based upon the JAO’s calculations, the Korean Peninsula and Japan would be next.
What these first two coronal mass ejections did was plow a road through space, allowing the solar winds to race across the void unimpeded.
The next active region on the solar disk produced the largest coronal mass ejection of the cycle. In just hours, North America would bear the brunt of this massive geomagnetic storm. Its highly charged particles would spread through the ionosphere and affect Canada, Mexico and much of Central America as well.
No part of the hemisphere would be spared, and some regions at high altitudes, where the magnetosphere wa
s particularly weak, would be subjected to deadly solar radiation strong enough to blister exposed skin.
“Dr. McKeon.” A member of the JAO team interrupted her thoughts. “There’s a call for you. It’s from the White House.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, highly skeptical that they would not follow normal communications protocols.
“I guess. She sounds official, anyway. She claims to be the president’s chief of staff.”
Dr. McKeon stood to adjust her clothes and hair although the phone call was not a video conference. She approached the young woman’s desk and picked up the receiver.
“This is Dr. Allie McKeon. How may I help you?”
She listened for a moment, nodding as the caller gave her instructions. As she listened, she cradled the headset between her chin and shoulder, then motioned to her assistant with her hands to provide a pen and a notepad.
She quickly made notes and wrote down the person’s secured phone number.
“You do understand that in just a matter of hours, I will not be able to call you back. I don’t know if the SWPC in Boulder has informed you, but the United States will be feeling the effects of this geostorm at any time.”
She listened again, nodding as the other party spoke.
“But the prediction models can’t pinpoint a time of impact as you request. We can provide time ranges, and both the ESA and the SWPC have that data. There is nothing new to update on our end.”
She paused to listen. “Um-hum. Yes. I suppose that would be an option. Yes, of course. I’ll have my team get on it right away.”
She stopped again and leaned back in her chair. She looked toward the ceiling and sighed. “Of course. We will be discreet. Thirty minutes? Well, I suppose that’s possible. Um. Okay. Well, bye.”
