by D Stalter
Allison’s Secret
By: D Stalter
2018
© 2018 – All rights reserved
Day 1 - Riley
Day 1 Continued Riley
Day 1 - Allison
Day 1 Continued – Allison
Day 1 Riley Finds Wilson
Day 1 - Wilson leaves Kasbeer
Day 1 - Wilson returns
Day 1 - Riley
Day 1 - Allison Gets Home
Day 1 – Allison’s list
Day 2 - Allison
Day 2 - Allison
Day 2 – Allison Meets With Chief
Allison - Lumber Yard
Allison - Home Again
Day 2 - Nightime Discussion
Day 3 – Allison Gets Supplies
Day 3 - Attack at farm
Day 3 - Riley
Day 3 - Farm Meeting
Day 4 – Allison’s 1st Run In With Rich
Day 4 – Riley Meets Homeowner (Get off my porch)
Day 4 – Phil Reveals
Day 4 Allison Works With Jaden
Allison - 2nd Run-In With Rich
Day 4 - Riley Meets Allison
Day 4 - Allison
Day 4 - Riley
Day 4 - Wilson
The End
Day 1 - Riley
Indoor smoking laws be damned, smoke hung in the air like a putrid fog. Riley perched on the barstool furthest from the door. The warm beer in front of him sat neglected as he bent over a map of Illinois, running his finger from Rockford to the twin cities of LaSalle and Peru about 60 miles south. Ash fell off his cigarette onto the map.
“Damn fire safe cigarettes,” he muttered and swiped it away leaving a black streak across the fold of the map.
“Turn the lights on,” he snapped at the bartender who leaned against the counter scratching his hairy belly under a t-shirt that proclaimed “FREE MUSTACHE RIDES”.
“They’re on, boss.” He moved his hand down the front of his pants and scratched.
Riley raised his head and stared at the big bartender. “You got fleas?” he asked.
“I think it’s eczema. I got these dry patches of skin. They’re driving me crazy. Here, look.” He grabbed the bottom hem of his t-shirt and pulled up.
“I don’t want to see it.” Riley waved the man away. “Go get a ladder and clean the bulbs on these lights. I can’t see a thing. And turn the TV on. Put it on CNN or MSNBC News.”
The news anchor was nodding seriously at his guest. “How will this solar flare affect earth?” he asked.
Clasping his hands on the desk, the bald guest turned to stare directly at the camera. “What we need to understand is our sun has no surface. It’s a huge ball of gasses and is in a constant state of instability. The center of the sun produces immeasurable pressure and temperatures that can reach over 20 million degrees Fahrenheit. Hydrogen atoms are compressed and fused together. Basically, the sun functions as a nuclear fusion reactor. When it shoots a CME towards earth, it could hit with the force equal to up to a billion hydrogen bombs. Now, I don’t think the flare we are expecting today is all that powerful. We don’t think it will come near as powerful as the Carrington event.”
The news anchor leaned forward. “That’s the solar flare from the mid 1800’s right? They didn’t have electronics back then. They probably didn’t even feel it.”
The bald guest nodded. “Telegraph operators across the country watched wires explode and the operators were zapped by electric shocks. They certainly felt it. If a solar flare of that magnitude were to hit earth today, the energy produced would likely zap satellites, computers, any vehicle built since 1970, and our power grid. And, that brings me to a significant piece of information. What most Americans don’t know is that we don’t have the parts to rebuild all of our power grid if it is knocked out. It could take years to bring power back.”
The news anchor tapped his pen on the desk. “So, are you saying that if we get a big solar flare, life as we know it is over?”
“Not at all. We don’t know for sure what would cease to work. Cars, for example, there’s a good chance that they would continue to run. But the electronics in the cars may not work. For some cars, that might mean they wouldn’t run at all. For other cars, they may run, but not well – and they would have no electronics.”
He turned to look directly into the camera. “Our power grid is another story. I can say, without a doubt, that if the earth is hit with a flare of that magnitude, the surge would cause overloads and most, if not all, of our grid will go down. Companies who were able to take their units off line and shut them down would be able to restart.”
“What can the average American do to prepare?”
“Well, if you are talking about solar flares, there is an app you can download to your smartphone called FlareAware. It will alert you when the sun shoots a CME in our direction. There are websites that you can visit to learn more. Two of the better ones are solarmonitor.org and spaceweather.com”
The front door banged closed pulling Riley’s attention away from the TV. A smile spread across his face when he saw his best friend walking towards him. He slid his chair back and walked around the bar to dump his warm beer and pour two more. He passed one glass across the bar. “Hey, Will, what brings you down here on a weekday afternoon? Did ya get fired?”
“They can’t fire me. I’m Mr. Wonderful and Macgyver all rolled up into one. I took the day off because it’s Monday and it’s a beautiful day for a bike ride. Want to join me?”
“Can’t,” Riley shook his head and pulled the map in front of him. “Wilson didn’t return my nephew to my sister again. I’ve got to go to LaSalle and get him. That’s a three hour round trip.”
Will pulled his long, blond hair back into a ponytail and secured it with a rubber band. His biceps rippled with the movement. “Shut the front door! Sounds like a perfect run. Why don’t you get your bike and I’ll ride with you.”
Riley leaned back in his stool and blew a ring of smoke that drifted lazily above his head. “OK. The kid’s old enough to ride on the back of my bike on the way home. His mom won’t know until we get home. She can’t say ‘no’ then.”
“By the way,” Will said holding his right hand up and looking at his fingernails. His eyebrows raised as if he were surprised to see how clean they were. “The hot blond chick from the gas station asked about you. I think she was using it as an excuse to talk to me.” He blew on his fingernails and then wiggled them towards Riley. “I think she likes me.”
“I think you got the wrong idea. You make a great wingman, but I think you misunderstood where her interest lies.”
The TV switched to a graphic of the sun with streams of lights shooting from the surface.
Will nodded toward the set. “So that’s what the bull-snot is all about.”
“What bull-snot?”
“I stopped at Target on the way here. The place was packed. There wasn’t a free cart to be had. It was like trying to shop on Christmas Eve. People bumping into each other. I even saw a couple fights. Assholes are acting like today is the end of the world?”
“Well, I doubt it’s the end of the world. They just say that there is a solar flare coming. But they said it wasn’t going to be bad. We might lose power for an hour or two, but it’s no biggie.”
“That’s my Riley. Glass half full.”
Riley smiled back at him. “You know me. Captain Confidence.” He folded the map, drained his beer and shoved the map into his back pocket. “Come on. Let’s go pick up the kid. My bike is out back. I’ll meet you out front.”
He moved down the narrow, dark hallway, past the restrooms to the door leading to the alley. The bright light when he opened the door made him squint. With his left hand in his front je
ans pocket digging for his keys and his right hand fishing his sunglasses out of his shirt pocket, he was unprepared for the body slam that took him to the ground.
His mind registered two attackers. He landed on his back, the man who’d hit him following him down and landing across his chest. The second attacker flung himself on Riley’s legs, pinning him to the ground.
Riley fumbled with the keys in his left hand and managed to make a fist with keys protruding from between his fingers. He aimed for the upper attacker’s head and felt a solid hit as the keys jammed the side of the attacker’s face with force.
He felt the hand that was twisted in his shirt collar relax and a high-pitched scream invaded his ear.
A door slammed. “Hey!” It was Will’s voice.
The attacker on Riley’s legs rolled off. The screaming attacker rolled into a ball, holding his head and crying.
Riley saw that both were just kids. Couldn’t have been fifteen.
“What the Sam Hell are you guys doing?” Will demanded.
“We wanted the motorcycle,” the kid who’d been on Riley’s legs muttered.
Riley looked at the boys. Both clean. Clothes that spoke of care. Haircuts that spoke of attention. They weren’t street kids. They came from decent families.
Will let out a breath, looked at the sky, and then glared at the boys. “What made you think that jumping a guy for his keys was a good idea?”
“People are going crazy.” The kid sniffed. “My mom called my dad at work and said we have to get out of Rockford. The Muslims are going to attack. She wants to go to Grandpa’s farm. My dad said we’ll be fine. My mom is acting real weird, man. She’s got all the suitcases out. She’ll cry and then she’ll laugh and then she cries again. Everyone is going crazy.”
“So, you thought you should steal a bike?”
“Well, if we’re going to get attacked and probably die, we wanted to get a ride on a Harley before we do. Kinda like a bucket list thing.”
Will struggled to keep the grin off his face, but he fought a losing battle. His lips blew out in a puff and he put his hand on the door jam as he bent over shaking with laughter.
Riley rolled to his knees and stood, shooting a frown at Will. He reached down to help the boy he’d punched with his keys. The boy was still sniffling. He stared at Riley’s hand for a moment before he took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.
“Go home and put an ice pack on your face,” Riley said.
“I can’t go home like this. What would I tell my mom?”
“Well, I wouldn’t tell her you were trying to steal a motorcycle and got your ass handed to you. Tell her you tripped and hit your head on the way down. And then help her do whatever she has decided to do. Just stay out of trouble. You’ll have plenty of time to ride a Harley in a few years.”
The boy nodded. “I’m sorry we jumped you and tried to steal your bike.”
“Just don’t do it again.”
They watched as the boys turned and ran to the mouth of the alley.
Riley picked his keys up from the ground. “Solar flare? Muslims? You want to call in to make sure you’re not needed today?”
“Nah. Williams is in charge. He can handle anything that comes up. I’ve earned this time off after those riots last month. This city is going downhill fast.”
Day 1 Continued Riley
Traffic heading south on 11th Street was bumper to bumper. Parking lots next to stores were packed. The Highway 20 loop around the south side of Rockford was worse. Cars stalled. People walked. An accident on Alpine Road forced them to a stop. Puffy white clouds floated across the blue sky. On another day, these people could be heading for a celebration.
Will leaned back and looked at Riley. “What the hell? Do all these people know something that we don’t?”
Riley shrugged. “According to CNN, it’s not supposed to be a big solar flare. Maybe I should’a watched Fox News. I’m not sure what those kids were talking about with Muslims. Want to go off roading?”
“Not really, but we’ll never get out of town if we have to sit and wait. But hold on a second. Did I ever tell you about the drunk Romeo on the bus?”
Riley rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“Well, a drunk gets on a bus and sits behind the driver. At the next stop, a pretty girl gets on. The bus driver leans over and says ‘Tickle your butt with a feather?’ The girl jumps back and says ‘WHAT?’ The bus driver looks at her innocently and answers ‘Particularly nice weather.’ The girl looks embarrassed and goes to find a seat. Now this happens three more times and the drunk is watching and giggling. He finally asks the bus driver if he can do the next one. The bus driver agrees and at the next stop, a pretty girl gets on. The bus driver looks back at the drunk and the drunk starts jumping in his seat. He yells ‘Fuck you!’ The girl screams ‘What did you say?’ The drunk sits there for a second and then says ‘Think it’s gonna rain?’
Will watched Riley. “What, not even a smile?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Cuz I’m the one who told you that joke in the first place and I tell it a whole lot better than you. Tell me, how does the Winnebago Sheriff’s Department put so much trust in you? You can’t even tell a joke.”
“I can too! You probably told it to me wrong the first time.”
“I didn’t.”
“You probably did.”
“Can we go?”
“Lead the way.”
They restarted the bikes and left the road traveling east on Linden Road until they reached the I-35 entrance ramp. Then they turned the bikes south towards LaSalle.”
I-35 southbound was bumper to bumper but, by driving between cars or on the shoulder, the motorcycles were able to keep moving. They ignored honking horns and middle finger salutes. But, the drive that normally would have taken an hour, however still took almost three.
They exited the Interstate at Highway 6 and turned west, traffic lightened up. Riley signaled to Will to follow, then led him through a neighborhood to a bar located right on an unobtrusive corner of the quiet neighborhood. They backed the bikes up to the curb and entered the dim bar.
A lone man sat at the bar facing the television. He wore a green t-shirt with a huge flag plastered across the back and the slogan “LW Schneider’s - Supporting Our Troops Since 1970.” The shirt looked like he’d slept in it for a week. His jeans were shiny with dirt and his boots looked like he’d just walked across a cow pasture after a heavy rain. He smelled like he’d slept in a dumpster.
Riley nodded when the man looked up. “The news have anything to say about what’s going on?”
“Solar flare headed towards earth,” the man grunted.
“I heard it wasn’t supposed to be bad.”
The man shrugged. “They say it might knock out power and phones. They was just talking that the government is shutting down airports tonight.” He drained his bottle of beer and signaled the bartender to bring another.
“I’ve got that,” Riley said reaching into his back pocket and removing his wallet. “Get my friend and I the same.”
He slid into the seat next to the man in the green t-shirt and held out his hand. “Shane Riley. My friends call me Riley. My friend here is Will Mead. We just left Rockford. It’s a madhouse there.”
“Rick Ruth. Might be Rockford is a madhouse because the news is saying that Muslims are in place to wipe out big cities after the flare hits and first responders will be overwhelmed. Small towns don’t have to worry about that... yet.”
Will let out a deep breath and slammed his hand on the bar. “Knew letting them into the country was a mistake. I still say they let them in so that they could screw up the country and people would have to look to the government to help them.”
He stabbed his finger on the bar. “Make people dependent on the government and the government controls everything. Everything!” He raised his glass and drank until it was empty.
Riley grinned at the o
utburst and turned back to Rick. “Do you know a George Wilson? He lives just up the street.”
Rick stiffed at the name. He turned his head to stare at Riley. “What do you want with Wilson?”
“He didn’t return my sister’s kid yesterday. I’m here to pick up my nephew.”
“Yeah, I heard something about him keeping the kid. You won’t find him home.” He dropped his head to stare into his beer. “You did not hear this from me. He is hiding out at his sister’s place north of Princeton. It’s a little town called Kasbeer. His sister owns a tattoo shop. He left early this morning. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be leaving. I don’t want it getting back to him that I was talking to you.”
He put the glass to his lips and drained it before slamming it down on the bar and turning to walk out without a glance behind him.
Will watched him leave before turning to Riley who shrugged. “Guess we aren’t going to make many friends here. Let’s go get the kid.” He pulled the map out of his pocket and opened it on the bar. “Looks like it’s about 30 miles from here. I want to stay off the Interstate.” He indicated a township road that cut west. “Let’s work our way over on this road.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket as he walked out the door. “I gotta call Denise and let her know that we are chasing Wilson. She’ll be worried when we don’t head right back.”
He dialed his sister’s number. He heard no ringing. He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it before trying again. He still got no connection.
“Try texting,” Will suggested.
Riley sent a short text. He looked up at Will and shrugged. “It says it was delivered.” He swung his leg over the black Harley and sat back as the bike roared to life. He nodded at Will who nodded back and then pulled out to follow him.
Riley traveled north for a block before turning west and then quickly turning into an alley, stopping next to a garage three doors down from the street. He shut off the bike and used the heel of his boot to set the kickstand in place.
“What’s here?” Will looked toward the green run-down house. Weeds covered the space between the garage and the house. A broken down picnic table threatened to topple into a fire pit that was missing a few bricks.
