THE END - Book I - Of THE EVENT SERIES
Page 14
“Hey, Hey,” one man yelled as they came toward Webber and Franklin.
“Man, is it great to see you. We thought we might be the only ones left,” he said out of breath.
“Good to see you too. How many are with you?”
“Seven, including us.”
“Only seven?”
“Afraid so. We didn’t even know if anyone else was alive. Are you from the Army?”
“The Air Force,” Franklin said.
“Same thing. So our military is still intact?”
“We don’t know for sure,” Colonel Webber said.
“I don’t understand. You’re here.”
“Actually, we found you by accident. We are on our way to Washington D.C. to see what happened.”
“They haven’t told you?”
“We haven’t been able to get in touch with them. That’s where we were flying to but we veered too far south,” he told them.
“But others survived?”
“As far as we know,” Webber replied.
The man frowned.
“Where are you coming from?”
“Colorado.”
“Cheyenne Mountain?” the other man asked. Webber nodded his head.
“And you aren’t in touch with Washington?”
“Not at present.”
“You were inside the mountain when whatever it was that caused all this happened?” he asked.
“Yes. About a hundred and ninety of us.”
“Everyone outside was gone?”
“Essentially.”
“Piles of goo?”
“Pretty much.”
“Any idea what happened?”
“Your guess is as good as mine right now,” Webber said.
“But it’s widespread, not just here?”
“I think it safe to assume that. All across the Midwest we saw the same kind of devastation. It appears to have affected the area from Colorado to West Virginia for sure.”
“Then it probably got the whole country.”
“I can’t say for sure but that would be my guess. We are hoping to find out something in Washington. Several underground safety bunkers are hidden around the city. I am hoping the government survived,” Webber told them.
“It doesn’t look like people had much time. From the looks of the parking lot and main building, people pretty much died in place,” the man said.
“Oh, by the way, I’m Colonel Webber and this is Lieutenant Franklin.”
“Hi, I’m Willie Baker and this is Barry Henderson. I’m a tour guide and Mr. Henderson was in the group with me.”
“Good to meet you gentlemen,” Webber said as they all shook hands.
“What should we do now?” Barry asked.
“How is everyone’s health?”
“No problems. We do have one little girl with us. She is okay but scared.”
“Aren’t we all?” Franklin said.
“I guess that’s true enough,” Barry agreed.
“Look, I don’t think we can make it to DC tonight before it gets dark. Would it be alright with you if we stayed overnight?” Webber asked.
“You bet. We have a generator going and can actually cook some food for you. It will just be burgers or hotdogs if that’s alright,” Willie said.
“I wanted a steak but a hotdog will do,” Webber said chuckling.
They followed Willie and Barry back to the cavern. The others were waiting anxiously as they walked into the main building. Everyone started asking questions at once and Colonel Webber held up his hands.
“I can only answer one question at a time. Let me start by saying that I am with the US Air Force but I am not acting in an official capacity for the Government. Lieutenant Franklin and I were headed to Washington when we just happened to fly over this area. The Lieutenant is the one who spotted you. Now, if you don’t mind, one question at a time,” he said.
“Are there other survivors?”
“Let me say this. We were flying so it would be hard to say that it is impossible for others to have survived. All I can say is that your group, due to a couple of circumstances, is the first we have seen.”
“Are they all dead?”
“I honestly can't say. Frankly, I would prepare myself for that possibility,” Webber said softly.
“Christ. What happened? Who did this?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re the military. Aren’t you supposed to protect us from something like this? What the hell were you doing?” Wilson asked angrily.
“Yes sir, that is our job but we can only protect against known enemies using known weapons. We have never seen anything like this before and have no way of knowing what it was, or how it was even delivered. I doubt it could have been terrorists.”
“Do you know that for sure?” Wilson challenged.
“Not at all. I’m not saying that. What I do think is that the area of destruction is far too great. I think it may well have affected the entire US and possible other countries as well,” Webber said calmly.
“But you don’t know for sure?”
“No sir, I do not. Maybe we will find out once we get to Washington,” he replied.
“So what are we supposed to do in the mean time? Sit on our butts like the military apparently was?” Wilson said.
“I suggest a couple of things. The first is to stay together. You seem to have the basic necessities here. Going off alone could be dangerous. Second, you need to conserve food and water. It may be some time before the supply system is back up and water may be hard to come by. Third, I would send a team into town and get all the provisions you can. We have found older cars and trucks, the ones without all the fancy electronics, still operate. Load them down and bring everything you can find. Don’t forget to bring medical supplies. Is anyone a doctor in the group?” Webber asked.
“I’m an RN,” the woman said.
“Excellent. You should organize the medical supplies. You’re name?”
“Karen Bibb.”
“Okay Karen.”
“What about a mechanic?”
No one spoke up.
“Anyone fiddle with cars?”
“I kind of do. I got a bunch of kids and I usually end up working on someone’s car. I ain’t a real mechanic but I know the basic stuff.”
“That’s great. You are?”
“Allen. Allen Pinkerton.”
“Allen do you mind looking for vehicles that you can maybe get running?”
“I’ll give it a try,” he said.
“What about any trades. Electrical, plumbing, that kind of thing?”
Silence.
“Anyone good with tools?”
Still no one replied.
“What do you do sir?” Webber asked Mark Wilson.
“Insurance.”
“Any hobbies?”
“Golf.”
“Mr. Henderson?”
“I’m a chef.”
“Really? Great. Maybe you could help with the food selections. Figure out what you can use. You don’t have to do the cooking but you probably know about keeping people safe from eating the wrong things.”
“I can do that.”
“Good. Now if you don’t mind, we haven’t eaten anything except snack food since we left Colorado,” Webber said.
“Great, now they are going to eat our food,” Wilson muttered but Webber let it pass.
Thirty minutes later they were sinking their teeth into a juicy hamburger.
****
Later that night, Webber invited Willie and Barry outside for a private chat.
“You two seem to be the most levelheaded. Wilson is trouble. If he wants to go off on his own, let him. He won’t get far and chances are he will return shortly.”
“Just let him go?”
“That’s what I would do. I didn’t want to say this in front of the others but I would also quietly get a handgun just in case.”
“Why? Wilson?”
“No, he is all
talk. Just a blowhard. No, not for that. I just would feel better if the two of you had a way to defend yourselves.”
“But from what?”
“We don’t know the extent of all of this. Some groups may eventually find their way here. People start to act strange when there is no law. I just think you should be ready.”
“Lord Almighty. You think it could come to that?” Henderson asked.
“I don’t know but why risk it?” Webber said.
****
Early the next morning Franklin and Webber said goodbye to the small group of survivors and walked back to the plane.
“What will happen to them?”
“I don’t know. At some point we are going to have to figure a way to get any other survivors together in a common place. Spread out like this makes it impossible to communicate or start rebuilding,” Webber replied.
“This is going to be a long process isn’t it?” Franklin asked as they started to climb in the plane.
“That my friend, is an understatement if I ever heard one.”
Webber gave the plane a once over before firing up the engine and shoving the throttles full forward. They were airborne long before the end of the field. They headed northeast toward Washington DC.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Somerset, Kentucky
McCormick coal mine number three had been in operation for only seven years, a relatively short time in the mining industry. The mine operated twenty-two hours a day in three shifts. Mine Number Three was the pride of the McCormick company operations and had only recorded four work related accidents and no deaths. It had been continually upgraded with the latest technology for insuring miner’s safety.
One of the most unique features of mine number three was a safe room where miners could seek safety in the event of a disaster.
While it sounded like a good idea in theory, in reality, mining disasters are usually instantaneous and give little warning rendering the room virtually worthless. It was the butt of many jokes among the ‘crackers’ that went down in the mine each day.
The main shaft went down a little over 500 meters, close to 1650 feet. Each day the miners would arrive for their shift and shoot the breeze about the latest production figures. The small mining community located a few miles from Somerset, Kentucky was made up of a close knit group of hard working men and women.
K.C. Jenkins was a ‘Beamer’ and one of the youngest members of the swing shift. While he took a lot of razzing, it was done in fun and he always rolled with the punches. His primary job was to make sure the roof, called the back, didn’t collapse on the other men in the shaft. Using beams and bearing plates, the beamers would erect a protective barrier to ensure the safety of the other miners.
Each morning the men and women would wait for the bucket to take them down into the bowels of the earth. Faces washed, clothes clean, and full of energy they would descend to the level of the current shaft they were working in.
At the end of the shift they came out dirty, covered with bug dust and drained of all energy. Bug dust was a mixture of fine particles of coal dust and other minerals that was caused by the boring machines.
“UK lost last night,” the man next to K.C. said.
“Tell me, how could they blow a ten point lead like that?”
“They sucked. Simple as that.”
“Still.”
“They play Wisconsin next. They pull that shit with them and they will get buried.”
“Wisconsin is what? Ten and one?”
“Eleven and one. They beat Purdue last night.”
“The Wildcats need to get their shit together,” KC said.
A loud whistle sounded and a few seconds later the gate to a large cage was opened and the miners filed in. They would continue to talk and poke fun at each other until the gate closed and the cage started its long decent.
At the bottom they filed out and the tone of the men changed immediately. Everything became serious. Most of the men took their lunch buckets to the safe room and stored their dinner. It was the only thing the room was really good for.
KC and his crew followed a line of bore operators down a long tunnel where the day workers were located. They stood around and waited until a loud siren sounded and the lights flashed on and off twice. It was the signal that the day shift had ended and the swing shift should take over.
The miners exchanged quick words with their relief workers and then slowly made their way down the tunnel to be taken to the surface. It was always such a stark contrast. The new crew, clean and ready to get to work and the off going crew, tired and dirty.
“You need to put a cap block under that beam,” the day worker told KC.
“Got it.”
“Oh yeah. Larson hurt his arm. A beam fell over and hit him. He was working on that plate there,” he said, pointing to the location.
“Okay.”
“Check the bolt torque. It didn’t seem like he was his usual self after that. It could be all right but I would check if I was you.”
“Thanks. Anything else?”
“You will need to do some cribbing over by the conveyor.”
KC shook his head in understanding.
“I guess that’s about it. Have a good one.”
“You too,” K.C. said and went over to his crew to bring them up to speed on what needed to be done.
Within minutes of the swing shift’s arrival, the entire operation had taken on a new crew and the work continued without a break. Little was said and each man knew what had to be done and went about doing the work. KC had been one of the youngest but he was also one of the best.
He had gone to the University of Kentucky for two years which immediately earned him the nick name of Professor. How the term got associated with him was still somewhat of a mystery but nevertheless, it became his nickname.
“Professor, I need another bolt,” one of his men yelled from a scaffold. KC waved and went and got the bolt and threw it up to him.
Something was wrong, and everyone knew it immediately. The first thought of the men was that a bump or burst had taken place.
A burst is a violent dislocation of material around an area where severe stress has taken place. Everyone froze for an instant. The floor of the adit began to shake and dust and chunks of wall and overhead started to fall. The operator of one of the jacklegs yelled, ‘Out’. The men scrambled down the long adit, a tunnel that is only open at one end, and headed for the main corridor.
The men began to put on their SCSR’s that would protect them from carbon monoxide gas. The Self Contained Self Rescuer units were clipped to each worker’s belt and a mouth piece was attached to the canister. A clip was used to close off the nose of the miner. By the time K.C. had reached the main passage the shaking had stopped and everything seemed to be normal.
“What the hell was that?” someone asked.
Just at that moment the lights flickered and then went out. Lamps were switched on from the miner’s hardhats. Dots of light beams filled the chamber.
“Jones, call up and find out what the hell is going on,” the pit boss said. Jones used the land line to call topside but it was dead.
“It must have knocked out the trunk line. I got nothing,” Jones told him.
“Ah shit. This is going to kill our quota figures,” the boss said disgustedly.
“Don’t they make allowances for that?” one of the newer women miners asked.
“In your dreams,” someone replied.
Ten minutes went by with the men becoming more restless. The SCSR’s were only good for thirty to sixty minutes depending on the moisture level in the air.
“This sucks,” someone said.
“Can we go ahead and eat?” someone else chimed in.
“It ain’t been an hour yet and you want to eat?”
“Sure, why not? Ain’t nothing else to do.”
“Fine. Go ahead but if the lights come back on you drop what you’re doing and get your ass back to work.”
Several others followed while KC and his crew discussed the latest development that had cropped up.
“I think we need to use the four footers for pinning,” KC said, indicating the longer roof support bolts, “The pal nuts are sinking in too far.”
“Were using the threes now.”
“Use the fours and if they still go in too far, double up on the bearing plates if you have to.”
“That is going to really slow us down,” one of the crew complained.
“Think how much a slide would slow us down,” KC said.
Thirty more minutes passed and now the miners were starting to get a little more concerned.
“What the hell is the hold up?” someone said.
“We can kiss our bonuses goodbye,” another added.
“Easy guys. Something must have happened topside. An explosion maybe,” the pit boss said.
“So, does that mean they can just forget about us down here?”
“Don’t be an asshole. You know they are up there working their butts off. They don’t like to have us shut down either.”
“Our SR’s ain’t going to be good much longer,” one of the other women miners pointed out.
“We probably don’t need them anyway. It wasn’t a burst. I think they lost power topside and we just need to relax and sit tight. You’re getting paid.”
“If you’re so sure, why don’t you take off your mask?”
“All right, if that will shut you up.”
He took off his mask and took a deep breath.
“It’s fine,” he said.
“You can’t smell carbon monoxide butthead.”
“I’m telling you it’s fine. Look at your CO monitor.”
No one else took off their mask for another five minutes; finally one by one they all removed them. Now there was nothing for them to do except sit and wait for the power to come back on.
“Damn it. What the hell are they doing up there?”
“Cool your jets. It has to be a really major problem for them to let the mine stay shut down for this long.”
“You think what we felt was an explosion?”
“Who knows?”
“Mike, what happens if they can’t get the power back?”