Through the Storm (The Solar Storms Saga Book 1)

by Kyle Pratt

  A bike raced out of the smoke and nearly hit him.

  “Madison,” he croaked with a hoarse voice.

  She turned back to him. “I was afraid we’d missed each other.”

  “No.” Conner shook his head and then drank deeply. “I’m just slower than you. My legs are sore and this bike is …”

  An ember drifted to the ground and caught nearby grass on fire.

  “We can’t stop here.” Madison mounted her bike. “Which way do we go?”

  “There’s an intersection up ahead.” Conner pointed along the road.

  “I was just there. Follow me.”

  “That’s seems to be all I can do—follow,” Conner grumbled as she raced ahead.

  Together they turned at the intersection and for more than an hour they headed west. Madison led but remained closer, never disappearing into the dark clouds. As they approached Ellensburg, she slowed and Conner rode alongside.

  “I’m sorry about leaving you behind earlier.”

  “Lousy bike.” And flabby legs. Conner wanted rest. “Do you have a towel or shirt we can use to make a mask for your face?”

  Madison grinned. “Yeah, that would be good.” They stopped and she pulled a towel from her bag.

  About a mile ahead the road sloped downward. They drank and coasted into town.

  “The wind seems to be blowing north.”

  She nodded.

  “If we keep heading toward the mountains, we should veer away from the fire.”

  They cruised to the bottom of the slope and pedaled up the next. The top provided a vista of the surrounding city. Dark, smoky clouds filled the sky, but the town seemed untouched, at least for now. Throngs of refugees lined the road, pushing west toward the mountains. Most were on foot; some rode bikes. The eyes of most stared at the pavement.

  One man drove his riding lawn mower with a woman and children in the trailer behind.

  An old pickup truck, burdened with more than a dozen people, sped past.

  Madison looked to Conner. “A vehicle that works?”

  Conner shrugged.

  Together they joined the multitude fleeing the oncoming firestorm.

  Many adults seemed dazed as they left the city. An old woman with blank eyes sat in a shopping cart as a man about the same age pushed. Children and babies coughed and cried. Families held each other close as together they raced ahead of the flames.

  Just west of town, the lines of refugees converged onto the freeway as it rose into the mountains. Within the mass of people, Conner found it difficult to bike. Eventually, he and Madison both dismounted and walked.

  Behind him an explosion thundered.

  Screams rippled through the refugees. Some ran; most trudged onward.

  Conner turned. An orange ball of flame rose into the sky. Had the flames reached a fuel storage area in Ellensburg?

  As the sun dipped below the western mountains, Conner slowed his pace and held out his arms. “Feel the wind?”

  Madison nodded. “It changed direction.”

  He pointed to a nearby hill. “Let’s go there.”

  They climbed a rocky hillside and watched the city of Ellensburg burn.

  * * *

  Rural Lewis County, Washington, Tuesday, September 6th

  Fear grew in Drake as he stared at Ashley on the floor. Sweat rolled down her face. Again Drake fumbled with the key but managed to secure the door. “What happened?”

  “Three guys with guns.” Ashley struggled to breathe. “They were breaking into homes and stealing. When I heard shots, I ran.”

  “Did they see you?” Drake peered out the window with his rifle ready. “Did they follow you?”

  “No. I don’t think so.”

  Drake relaxed a bit. He wanted to remind her that he had said she should stay with him but thought better of it. “You can stay here as long as you want.”

  “Do you think someone got shot? Maybe they’re hurt or dead?” She curled into a ball and cried. “What’s happened to my mom and dad? What’s happening to … to everywhere?”

  Gruff licked her cheek as Drake slid down beside her. In the still dimly lit hallway, he shared what little he knew about the growing crisis.

  Ashley shook her head. “A storm on the sun caused all of this?”

  “That’s what the pastor said and his son seemed to believe it too.”

  “How could that be?”

  He shrugged. “It’s daylight so I’m going to get the electricity on.”

  Ashley cast him a skeptical glance. “How?”

  Drake grinned and strode to the garage with Ashley following. There he grabbed a gas can and rolled the generator outside. He tried to look confident as he followed the step-by-step instructions his father had written, but as he yanked the starter cord, visions of sparks and fire surged in his mind.

  The generator hummed; lights flickered on.

  “The water is still cold, but in about an hour you can take a hot shower if you like.”

  Ashley smiled. “Really?”

  He nodded. “I’ve got to feed the animals.”

  Ashley followed him, staying closer than Gruff. Inside the barn, she helped him feed the rabbits and chickens and then stayed there watching them while he milked the goats.”

  Later, Drake sat at the head of the dining room table, eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch. Ashley walked in with a towel around her head and wearing his robe. Drake tried to think of something witty to say but couldn’t. “I made you a sandwich.”

  “Thanks.” She sat beside him. “Do you think the robbers are still near my house?”

  “Maybe, but they probably took whatever they wanted and left.”

  “Would you mind if I stayed here awhile?”

  Drake grinned. “Sure, I guess that would be okay.” Yes!

  She nodded and stared at her food for several moments. “I need to go back and leave a note for Mom and Dad. Also, I’ll need clothes and stuff—if you think it’s safe.”

  No, it wasn’t safe. The looters might still be in the area, waiting for darkness and a chance to break into more houses. Drake recalled a comment from the orange binder about keeping weapons on each person or quickly available. He turned to Ashley. “If we go back to your house, you should have a gun.”

  Wide-eyed, she shook her head.

  He started to insist, but if he argued with her, she might leave and go home without him. He wanted her to stay with him for good reasons … and bad. At the very least she could help keep an eye on things and might assist with chores. For now, he wouldn’t argue with her about carrying a gun. “Okay.” He nodded and slung the rifle over one shoulder. “Let’s do this while it’s still light.”

  * * *

  Lane County, Oregon, Tuesday, September 6th

  For nearly an hour, Neal sat leaning against a tire under the watchful eye of an M4-toting private. Then another soldier approached. “Where’s the prisoner’s backpack?”

  Neal grunted at being called a prisoner.

  The guard pointed to a lone backpack near a pile of other gear collected by the soldiers.

  In the truck behind him, the crazy woman cackled.

  The new soldier opened Neal’s bag and poured the contents onto the ground, spilling some of the dog food as he did. He then restuffed the bag, checking each item as he did. “Come with me. The major wants to see you.” The soldier passed the backpack to Neal.

  With a soldier on each side, Neal was escorted to the major sitting under the shade of a tree behind a portable table. Several empty chairs were positioned nearby.

  The private stopped and saluted. “Sir, the prisoner had a small knife in the bag, but no other weapons or suspicious items.” He passed the knife to the major.

  The major examined it and set it on the table. “My name is Major Franklin.” He gestured for Neal to sit in one of the empty chairs.

  “Neal.” As he sat, the chair rocked on the uneven ground. “Ah, Neal Evans.”

  Major Franklin
nodded slowly and then continued. “Since the solar storm, we’ve had problems with looters and the general criminal element. We’ve had a particularly bad time with one militia group that has been raiding and killing in this area.”

  “I have nothing to do with them or what happened here.”

  “I don’t think you do either, but somehow everyone else in that park ended up dead or crazy.” He leaned forward. “So, tell me what happened. Who was in the park when you arrived?”

  “Thirty, maybe forty, men, women, and children.”

  “Were they armed? Did there appear to be any military organization?”

  “No. They seemed like a bunch of refugees.”

  The major wrote on a pad. “Go on.”

  “Later, eight men came into the meadow. They looked like a biker gang, minus the bikes. I thought they would be a problem.”

  “Where were you when they arrived?”

  “In the trees just to the west.” Neal pointed to where he had camped. “Anyway, after a while things settled down, and I fell asleep. Just before dawn, rapid gunfire erupted. I stayed down low until there was enough light to see.”

  “So, all the shooting happened while it was still dark?”

  Neal nodded. “I think they must have had night vision gear. They killed the bikers in seconds. I think the other bodies in the meadow were collateral damage.”

  The major jotted more notes on his pad.

  “Please, you’ve got to believe me. I’m just trying to get home. I didn’t kill anyone.”

  “I believe you.” The major slid the knife back to Neal. “Will you be going through Portland?”

  “You're letting me go?”

  The major nodded.

  “Yeah, I’ll need to go through parts of the city. I’ll probably avoid the downtown area. Can you tell me what the situation is in Portland now?”

  The major shook his head. “I wish I knew. My family lives there.” For the next couple of minutes, he wrote. Then he sealed each of two pages in its own envelope and wrote on the covers. Holding one up, he said, “This is for my commanding officer in Portland. If you make it there, I’ve asked him to provide you safe passage through the city.”

  “Thank you. Who is the other letter for?”

  “My wife and children. Please let them know that I’m okay.”

  * * *

  Kittitas County, Washington, Tuesday, September 6th

  “The fire is moving north.” Conner pointed to his left. “If it keeps moving that way, we should be safe. We can stay here for a while.”

  Madison nodded.

  He dropped his backpack and sat, grateful that she had agreed. Smoke still hung heavy in the air, and the fire would destroy much of Ellensburg by morning, but he didn’t think he could pedal any farther.

  She sat beside him. “It’ll be dark soon. Do you want to camp here for the night?”

  “That might be a good idea.” He massaged his sore legs.

  While the long line of refugees continued up both sides of the freeway into the mountains, several small groups broke off and joined Conner and Madison on the hill.

  A family with two teen girls and a younger boy struggled to the summit. Each carried at least one cloth bag stuffed with possessions. Another man and woman huddled nearby. Somewhere in the growing darkness, a baby cried.

  It would get cold up on the hill, but the breeze kept the air clearer. Conner had breathed enough smoke and seen enough flames for a lifetime. He pulled out two energy bars from his backpack and passed one to Madison. “That’s the last of the food.”

  A woman cradling a baby climbed to the top of the hill.

  Madison ate quickly and then stared at the wrapper. “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “Sharing your food with me.”

  “You saved my life this morning. We help each other.” He passed the sleeping bag to her. “The best chance we have to get home is by working together.”

  A lone man strode up the hill.

  “Let’s move away from the others.” Conner picked up his gear. “I don’t want someone pulling a gun on me while I sleep.”

  Walking with the bikes and gear on his back, they hiked to a more secluded spot a few hundred yards away.

  “There are so many people in the area, someone should stay awake.” Conner set his bike against a tree. “I’ll take—.”

  “No.” Madison tossed him the sleeping bag. “I’ll stay awake. You had a rougher day biking than I did. Get some sleep.”

  Conner started to protest, but Madison pointed to the sleeping bag. “You first.”

  “Okay. Wake me….” He pulled up his sleeve to check his watch and remembered he had traded it. “Wake me when you get tired.” He slid into the bag and closed his eyes. Despite hunger, worry, and rocky ground, sleep snared him in seconds.

  He could taste smoke on his tongue. It tickled his nose as he woke. How long had he been asleep?

  “Conner, wake up. The wind changed direction.”

  * * *

  Rural Lewis County, Washington, Tuesday, September 6th

  Drake put Gruff on a leash, and with Ashley alongside, they headed out. The rifle seemed heavy on his shoulder and his stomach churned as they walked toward Ashley’s home. Out of habit, he walked along the road edge, but no cars passed and he hoped they wouldn’t encounter any looters.

  Pastor Wayne waved from the porch as they neared his house. “Glad to see you’re okay, Drake. Did you hear the shooting this morning?”

  “No, I slept through it.” As Drake walked over to the front porch, he noticed a shotgun beside the old man. Drake introduced Ashley. “We’re going to get stuff from her house.”

  “Mind if I walk with you?” Before Drake could answer, Wayne stood and grabbed the shotgun. “It’ll do me good to stretch my legs and look around the neighborhood.” He hurried down from the porch and petted Gruff.

  As they continued toward Ashley’s house, Drake glanced at the older man. “It seems strange to see a preacher walking around with a shotgun.”

  “I did four years in the marines before I was a pastor and I’ve done a fair amount of hunting.” He looked Drake up and down. “It seems strange to see a teenager walking down the road with a rifle over his shoulder.” Wayne grinned.

  When they arrived at Ashley’s home, she retrieved a key from a nearby flower pot, but before she unlocked the door, Wayne waved for her to stop. “I’ll check around back. You two stay here. Holler if anyone suspicious comes around.” Leading with the shotgun, he disappeared around the corner of the house.

  Drake swept his gaze along the street. All the nearby homes seemed quiet or deserted, but farther down the road, Drake spotted a broken window and an open front door. Gruff idly sniffed the ground.

  Pastor Wayne returned moments later. “Everything is secure in back. Unlock the door and I’ll do a quick check inside. Both of you keep watch out here.” He stepped inside and returned a few minutes later. “Okay, Ashley, get what you need and let’s leave before the sun sets.”

  Drake nodded agreement.

  Ashley dashed through the open door and up the stairs.

  After a few moments, Pastor Wayne turned to Drake. “Yesterday you said that your father was home, but that’s not true, is it?”

  Drake felt his face flush. “No. I’m not sure where he is, or my brother.”

  “Hopefully they’ll show up soon, but until then the best thing would be for you two to come and stay at my place. We already have three families in our house, but we can manage.”

  “No.” Ashley stepped onto the porch with a suitcase. “I don’t know you, but I know Drake. My parents said I could go to his house. I’ll stay with him till they come back.” She set the case down by Drake.

  Wayne started to say something, but Ashley shook her head and disappeared into the house again.

  “I’m staying on the farm,” Drake said with equal finality. “There are enough supplies to last us for a while and I need to take care of t
he animals.”

  Pastor Wayne stared at Drake with a serious expression, and then his face softened. “Ecclesiastes tells us there is a time for everything. I guess this is the time a boy becomes a man.”

  Drake grinned at being called a man.

  Wayne’s face returned to a more serious composure. “But you aren’t grown yet and I need to speak with you like a parent would.” He took a deep breath. “Clearly, Ashley trusts you. You need to honor that trust and be a gentleman. Your mother and father would expect that of you. You protect her and don’t use or hurt her. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  Drake felt like the pastor had smacked him in the face. Adults sure knew how to play the guilt trip. “Yes, I understand.”

  Moments later Ashley returned with a second suitcase and a school backpack. “I left a note for my parents.”

  Drake and the pastor each grabbed a case and the three hurried away from the empty house as the sun disappeared below the trees.

  Day Four

  Lane County, Oregon, Wednesday, September 7th

  Major Franklin carefully folded the note and then slid it across the desk along with Neal’s knife.

  Neal stared at the address and directions and then at the major. “You’re not heading north?”

  The major shook his head. “The militia group we’ve been ordered to … ah, neutralize seems to be moving south. Since you’re heading north, I’m hoping you will pass the letter along for me. The unit established a base camp near the University of Portland.”

  Conflicting emotions flooded Neal. He wanted to help the major, but more than anything he wanted to get home to Drake and Conner.

  “Of course, we’ll return your weapons.”

  “I’ve been to the campus. I’ll try to deliver your message. Can I get some food?”

  “If by food you mean MREs.” The major grinned. “We can spare a few.”

  Worried that he might change his mind, Neal stashed the three MREs the major offered into his pack and retrieved his shotgun and pistol from the guard. Then he jogged across the meadow.