Deuce and the Guerrero families are awake and waiting when Alex and Jessa return to Cascade Lake, which now looks more like a backyard pond compared to mighty Lake Tahoe. Alex scans their hopeful, worried, expectant faces. He’s pokerfaced, makes them wait before making his report, knowing they will hang on his every word.
“You want the good news first or the bad news?”
“Give us the bad news,” says Matias, steeling himself.
“There is no bad news. Lake Tahoe is clean, the fishes are swimming, and it’s right up the road from here. We made it!” Alex cannot hide his excitement as he hugs Deuce, Mateo, Matias and even Diego. He lingers over Diego, looks into his eyes. “Thank you for trusting me and for getting us here in one piece.”
Diego smiles and bows to spontaneous applause from the three families.
“I can’t wait to see it,” says Deuce.
“It sounds awesome,” says Mateo.
The Guerreros gather the sleeping bags and pile back into the van. It takes Diego four tries to start the engine. As it finally sputters to life, Alex, Jessa and Deuce mount their recumbent bikes and lead the way out to State Road 89. Diego drives the van very slowly behind them while Samson trots along close to Deuce’s trike.
Just as they reach the small parking area at the scenic overlook of Emerald Bay, the straining van sputters and coughs violently. With one last belch of pitch-black smoke from its exhaust, the van dies. Diego attempts to restart it several times, but the engine has finally seized.
“No mas,” says Diego shaking his head. “She’s older than dirt, anyway.”
“She served her purpose, Diego,” Matias says, “she got us here alive.”
The rest of the Guerreros climb out of the van, huddle together and stare at the lake, awestruck. The children are especially mesmerized by the sight of the azure blue water and the mountains soaring on three sides like a mythical oasis.
“Welcome home,” says Alex with a flourish.
“Look, Papa, guppies!” Mateo’s little sister, Mia, squeals with delight. The four kids scamper down the rocks and squat low just over the surface at the lake’s edge. They follow the school of tiny mosquito fishes as they dart through the shallows, weaving their way around the yellow cress.
“They are mosquito fishes,” Deuce says. “They eat mosquitos.”
“Yuck,” says Sofia.
“I hate mosquitos,” says Mia. “If they eat the mosquitos, then the mosquitos can’t eat me, so that’s good.”
“Exactly,” says Deuce. “Mosquito fishes good, mosquitos bad.”
“I hate to think mosquitos survived,” says Alex. “Where’s the justice in that?”
Despite the gloomy gray sky overhead and the timely death of their old van, their spirits are high. Deuce remembers Alex’s list of survival needs and reminds the others about their new priorities, the one after fresh air, water and food.
“We need to make shelters,” announces Deuce.
“The old van will be our temporary shelter,” says Diego. “We’ll honor her memory by using her as a base to help build new shelters for all of us.”
Fresh from their long sleep and excited by their new home, the three families immediately set about finding and collecting the raw materials needed to build comfortable shelters. There is enough dead felled wood around to construct an entire city, though they barely have enough tools to build a sand castle.
Diego fetches his toolbox from the van and produces a hacksaw, a ball peen hammer and a baby food jar filled with nails. Not nearly enough to put up two shelters, but a good start. Matias and Mateo work side by side on their shelter, a modified lean-to set up against the steep rocks facing the lake. Alex helps them collect and arrange flat stones, rocks and pine branches for a decent foundation, while Sofia and Mia watch the mosquito fishes, Mia giggling every time a fish darts and scares the other fishes into a mad scramble for safety.
Deuce wants to explore. He wanders off solo and makes his way down the beach in search of anything they can use, disappearing around a rocky, moss-covered outcrop a short distance up the beach. Two-seconds later, he reappears, wide-eyed, running full tilt, screaming at the top of his lungs.
“Mom, Dad, you’ve got to see this!”
Alex and Jessa follow him just beyond the outcropping. There, partially tucked away against the biggest rocks, is a primitive shelter made of tree limbs, pine needles and dead grass. The shelter is camouflaged by dozens of large pine tree branches covering its roof, yet completely open on the side facing the lake. Someone lived there once. The Washoe Indian tribe had inhabited the lake area for two hundred years. More recently, any one of an assortment of hippies, homeless and antisocial squatters who visited Tahoe could have created and enjoyed this perfect view from the south of Emerald Bay.
The shelter has two main sleeping compartments made of dried grass and animal skins. They are built one above the other like an extra-large bunk bed. The bottom is framed out near ground level and the top is about three feet higher. Each is wide enough to sleep three adults comfortably. Makeshift curtains made of animal skins provide privacy. There’s a separate area, a multipurpose living room, dining area, den and observatory that’s completely open on the side facing the lake. Under these conditions, this primitive shelter is a perfect post-apocalyptic South Lake Tahoe starter home.
Alex runs his hands along the upright supports that frame the shelter, finding them solid and stable. He eyes Jessa, “What do you think? Should we take it?”
“It’s a steal,” says Jessa approvingly.
Deuce deadpans. “Yeah, I absolutely love what they’ve done with the place.”
They spend the next couple of hours moving their supplies down to the shelter from the van, stockpiling most of them in the open-air room, which is little more than twenty feet from the water’s edge. Then they gather pine branches to reinforce the worn rooftop, the victim of many years of harsh weather.
“That’s good for now,” says Alex. “Let’s see if Matias still needs help.”
In the time they’ve been gone, Matias and his family have already constructed a pitched roof that touches the ground on one side, a seven-foot rock wall on the other side, like half of an A-frame.
“Not bad for cheap Mexican labor, eh?” laughs Matias admiring the stark simplicity of the structure.
“Not bad at all,” says Alex. “Ready for us to help you move in.”
Each member of the Guerrero and Jacks family grabs something from the van and carries it down to the shelter. Along with food, water and Slim Jims, there is snorkel gear, a spear gun, a spool of line and a couple of fishing nets Matias and Diego used for their cave diving expeditions. Matias gives one net to Alex.
“For leading us here and helping us move,” says Matias gratefully. “May your family never be hungry, my friend.”
“May we never be without friends like you,” says Alex, hefting the net so Deuce can study and appreciate it, too.
Emerald Bay North
As night falls, Hannibal gathers everyone except Meg, Mia and Lily around the community campfire. For the moment it is better they don’t hear what he is about to say.
“We found four more survivors. Up north. Four adult males, a father and three sons who look like they’ve spent their entire lives in these mountains away from civilization. Let’s call them ‘the four Jakes’ because papa Jake couldn’t think of original names for his offspring, so he named them all Jake. Anyway, the four Jakes refused to join us, a good thing because they wouldn’t exactly fit in. We have every reason to believe they’re a potential threat to every female here.”
Rachel raises her hand. “If they’re antisocial loners, why would they bother with us, and why just the females?”
“Because they don’t have a woman,” says Hannibal bluntly. “Now that they’ve seen Miss Satin here, they won’t have any self-control either. It was all over their faces, their gestures and the way they looked at her.”
“They practically raped me
with their eyes,” adds Satin.
Marcus raises his hand. “So why is this our problem if they only want her?”
“They’re hunters, Marcus,” says Hannibal. “Hunters don’t quit after their first hunt or their first kill and Satin’s not the only female here. We have Rachel and Meg and little girls to think about, too.”
Marcus glares at Hannibal. “This is ridiculous. Four hillbillies ogled your girlfriend and now we’re all supposed to freak out?”
“No one should freak out. Just be alert and vigilant. These men are armed. They have an assault rifle and a hunting bow and who knows what else. If they come for her, it’ll likely be at night. If you’re awake, listen for anything unusual. Otherwise, I’ll be doing night watch from now on.” Hannibal resigns himself to the role of night watchman. As the only alpha male and their de facto leader, his main responsibility is keeping Satin and the others alive and safe. Even with ten adults, Hannibal knows his community is no match for the firepower and ferocity of the four Jakes, who live by their collective hunting skills and Stone Age instincts.
He can still feel the evil essence of Jake’s animal spirit around them. He and Satin are convinced that it’s not a question of whether the four Jakes will come, but when. He notices his hands sweating for the first time in a long time.
“Well, I’d rather be safe than sorry,” says Rachel abruptly. She takes Hannibal’s warning seriously, fearing for the safety of Satin, Julia, Meg and her two little girls. “We need to get Meg and the girls away from here. Any volunteers to take them hiking down to the South Bay in the morning?”
Eric and Donnie volunteer immediately, prompting Ankur to join them. Now that Marcus and Rachel have their eyes and possibly other body parts on each other, Ankur’s crush is officially crushed. Getting away from the compound for a while will take his mind off his bruised ego.
“They need us. We’ll protect them,” Ankur announces bravely.
“Careful, you might find boogeymen down south, too,” cracks Marcus.
Hannibal rolls his eyes. “We’re not talking about boogeymen, Marcus. You weren’t there. You didn’t see them or hear their threat or sense their intentions. You’d be wise to take this more seriously.”
“What a tool,” whispers Ankur. Marcus annoys him more with each passing day. And everyone but Rachel thinks Marcus is an idiot.
“You say something?” Marcus stares down at Ankur.
“Ratatouille,” says Ankur, trying not to smirk.
Until today, they had every reason to believe they might be the last twelve people alive. Hannibal’s news about the four Jakes changes everything. They face a very real threat from other humans, something no one expected after The Crash.
December 7
Meg awakens to another gray day in north Emerald Bay. She peeks outside at the thick clouds then rouses Lily and Mia from sleep. Meg feels like exploring.
“What are we doing?” asks Lily.
“We’re going on an adventure hike.” Meg dresses the girls and packs some water, protein bars and dandelion roots in her backpack then leads them quietly away from camp toward South Emerald Bay.
“Where are we going, Meg?” asks Lily while Mia sucks her thumb.
Meg points across the snakehead-shaped bay to the southern shore. It’s only a half-mile away as the crow flies, but the hike will take them well over two miles around crescent-shaped Emerald Bay. Meg doesn’t care. A long hike will lift their spirits in spite of the gray day.
She takes the girls’ hands and leads them away from their shelter on a path south along the edge of the lake. Meg keeps the lake on their left, continually checking the tops of the high rocks and hills to their right. Instinct has taken over and she’s on the lookout for predators, half expecting to see a bear or mountain lion somewhere along the route. She is grateful that none appear.
Halfway there, she stops to point out the breathtaking view across the mouth of Emerald Bay straight out to the much larger Lake Tahoe. Even with all of its trees flattened, the lake is still beautiful, blue, calm and majestic. Lily doesn’t look at Lake Tahoe. She stares at a million downed trees surrounding the lake like a massive army of dead soldiers.
“How did all the trees fall down, Meg?”
“The Crash made so much energy, it knocked them right over. Just like it did your house and my house and everyone’s house.”
“I don’t miss my house,” says Mia.
“Really? Why not?”
“We didn’t like it there,” says Lily protectively.
Meg wonders why as they approach the southern edge of the bay and a new yet familiar sound grabs her attention. Is it the voices of other children in the distance, or just a figment of her overworked imagination? She turns to the girls.
“Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” asks Lily.
A hundred feet later Meg hears it again. It’s not her imagination. There are children. She pulls the girls forward, hurries them along toward the voices. An outcropping of big boulders up ahead blocks her view. It sounds to her as if the voices are coming from just the other side of the boulders.
“Come, quickly.” Meg runs them as fast as their little legs will go until they reach the boulders. She calls out, “Hello! Is anyone there?”
Matias’ and Diego’s children, Mateo, Sofia and Mia freeze when they hear the strange woman’s voice. They wait anxiously to see who will appear from behind the big rocks.
Meg, Mia and Lily round the boulders and stop dead in their tracks. All six of them stare wide-eyed at each other full of shock and surprise.
“Sofia, tell Papa! There’s more survivors,” hollers Mateo.
Sofia races off excitedly to tell their parents.
“Oh my God,” says Meg. “A family!” She approaches Mateo and his little sister. “I’m Meg. These are my girls, Lily and Mia.”
Mateo’s little sister lights up. “Mia? That’s my name, too.” Mia and Mia smile and stare at one another. They are the same age, one blonde and the other raven-haired. At least they are easy to tell apart. Meg crouches eye level with dark-haired Mia.
“Where did you come from?”
“Mexico,” says dark-haired Mia.
“Wow, that’s very far away. How did you get here from so far away?”
“Uncle Diego’s van,” says Mia matter-of-factly.
Meg chuckles. “Impossible, the cars are all broken, sweetie.”
“Not Uncle Diego’s van,” says Mia. “It got us here then it broke, too.”
“Well, aren’t you lucky?” Meg laughs.
“Yup,” says Mia, grinning.
Meg glances up just as Matias and Mariana come scampering down the nearest hill behind Sofia. Meg is overjoyed to find that a family and more children have survived.
The Guerreros introduce themselves.
“How long have you been here?” asks Meg.
“We arrive a couple of days ago,” says Mariana, “and you?”
“It’s been a couple of months. We’re up on the north shore of the bay. There are twelve of us. We thought we were the last survivors.”
“We came here with my brother, Diego, and his wife, Isabella. This is their daughter, Sofia.” Matias turns to Mateo. “Go get the others.”
Mateo disappears up the hill on the run.
Matias tells Meg how they survived Baja, their journey out of Mexico, how they lost their parents then met Alex Jacks and his family in Dana Point. He relates how the rising sea level forced them to leave and head inland in search of water and how they finally made it to Lake Tahoe.
Meg describes how she survived The Crash and found her two little girls wandering alone on the Nevada side of the lake, how she took them in and then found the little survivor group up on the North shore of Emerald Bay and how they started building a cooperative community there.
Another familiar sound, louder and more insistent, interrupts their conversation. It’s a dog barking. Samson charges down the hill followed by Deuce, Mateo, Alex,
Jessa, Diego and Isabella. It’s almost too much for Meg to absorb all at once, the small mob of survivors rushing down the hill gleefully.
“Doggie!” yells blonde Mia.
Samson bounds straight for her and Lily and takes turns licking their faces as they smother him with hugs.
“Our first four-legged survivor,” says Meg.
“He’s Samson. He was a service dog, now he’s a road warrior,” says Deuce.
“So you’re the road warrior, eh, Samson?” says Meg as she pats the dog’s shoulder.
Meg and her girls find themselves suddenly surrounded by six new adults, four more children and one very friendly German shepherd. These three new families would nearly double the size of the northern Emerald Bay community. If only Meg could talk them into moving.
Meanwhile, back at Emerald Bay North, Donnie, Eric and Ankur, Meg’s self-proclaimed bodyguards, are awake finally and heading south in search of Meg and the two little girls they promised to protect.
“I can’t believe we overslept,” gripes Ankur.
“I can’t believe Meg left without us,” says Eric.
“She didn’t tell anyone,” complains Donnie.
“Still, if anything happens to them, it’s on us.” Ankur is angry at himself.
“Dude, nothing’s gonna happen,” Donnie says.
“I hope you’re right.”
The last thing they expect to find is Meg and the girls casually hanging out with three entirely new families and a dog. Samson’s barking alerts the others to their arrival.
Alex and Matias are the first out to meet Ankur, Donnie and Eric as they near the Jacks family shelter. Samson is right on their heels.
“Can we help you?” Alex and Matias sudden appearance startles them.
“We’re looking for a woman and two little girls,” says Ankur. “They left our camp this morning and didn’t tell anyone.”
“We were supposed to protect them,” blurts Donnie.
RUNAWAY MOON Page 15
