“How do we know where that is?” Janey asked.
“We don’t,” Jolene said, “But if we want to stay alive, I fucking think we better assume that we are in the line of fire, and get our asses moving. We need to find a place to shelter down and keep out all outside air, tape up doorways, windows ...”
They all looked at each other, fighting a collective panic.
“How do we know what direction to go? If we go back to the houses we just left, we could get nailed. If we run to the next town, we could get nailed ... We can’t stay locked up inside forever. And what if they send the backup trucks again, to smash in windows and break down doors?” Alex’s voice was rising as he spoke, and Jolene recognized the onset of panic. She went to him and put her arm around him, holding him closer.
“We all have to make a choice now, where to hide out. The voice said 2100 hours, that’s about eight hours from now, so we have time to get out of here, find another house or a barn or something,” Jolene said, trying to sound encouraging, even as her own fear threatened to derail her.
“Keep those radios on and scanning. Maybe we will hear them again,” Gordon said, picking up his pack.
“And then what?” Gary asked. They all stopped dead in their tracks, looking at him. “I mean, I can’t be the only one wondering ... what do we do when we do find life out there? Who do we go to? The police? The media? The Feds? What if they are in on it?”
Nobody had an answer.
Gordon walked towards the woods at the far boundary. “We will cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, let’s just find that fucking bridge.”
The rest of the group picked up their things, gathered their wagons, and their wits, and followed.
Just before dusk, they reached the base of a hill and decided to climb to the top to get a vantage point of their surroundings.
Mags was asleep in one of the wagons, so Janey and Siri stayed below, not wanting to haul the wagons up the hill. Jolene and Brian got to the top first and put down their packs, looking around at the 360-degree vista before them. They kept their flashlights off, not wanting to be sitting ducks. There wasn’t much to see for miles but thick woods, and the dark spots that indicated the small towns they had gone through. None had any lights on. Not to the north, the west, the east, or the south.
It was all just darkness.
“Shit,” Brian said. “Fucking shit.”
Jolene scanned the horizon in every direction.
“This is not a very high hill, Brian. Look, we can barely see the horizon over the woods in three directions. And the north, where we came from, well, I wouldn’t expect any lights on, considering.”
“Now you’re being the optimist, Jo,” Brian said, moving closer to her so their arms were touching. Jolene could feel the heat of his body through his jacket, or maybe it was just her imagination. She was scared, and his body being so close was stirring things in her she hadn’t felt in a while. Why did fear do that, she wondered? Why did fear breed desire? Her eyes caught something, faint lights in the sky across the woods below. She watched for a good two minutes before she realized what she was seeing.
“Guys, look over there, toward Morris!” Jolene pointed at the lights.
The lights were coming closer, but still had to be a good mile off at least, headed due northeast of where the group stood on the hill. There were at least a dozen lights, planes, lined up as if flying in formation. The sound of their engines now broke through the silence, sending a chill up Jolene’s spine.
“Those are military,” Gordon said, looking through a small pair of binoculars he had stashed in his pack. He passed them around. “Y’all take a look and tell me what you see.”
Jolene took the binoculars first, gasping in horror as she saw the large planes more closely.
“Gordon is right,” she said, her voice cracking. “Those aren’t the planes that attacked us.” She watched for a minute, then handed the binoculars to Brian, who looked and began waving wildly to the others.
“Shit, shit, they’re spraying again! Look!”
Jolene grabbed the binoculars back, and clearly saw the jets close enough, flying wingtip to wingtip in formation, dispersing a curtain of white fog on the land below.
“There’s your fatal flyover, guys. Now we know where Test Site one was—Morris, Indiana.” They stood, open-mouthed, staring as the white mist fell to the ground on the small town they had all once called home. For a moment, Jolene thanked God they had talked her out of leaving there, even if it was where her heart still wanted to be.
Then the jets turned southward.
“Fucking hell, they’re coming this way,” Brian yelled, grabbing Jolene’s hand and dragging her down the hill. With the others hot on their heels, the sounds of jet engines grew louder.
Jolene saw the white mist fall on Gordon and Janey just as she and Mags ducked into the huge drainage pipe. They were the first two in, with Brian, Gary, Alex, and Siri following, pulling in the wagons, but Gordon had fallen back, and Janey stayed with him. They scrambled to get their masks back on, but the time had cost Gordon and Janey. Gordon had put his mask in his pack, and he stopped long enough to unzip and grab it.
Janey stood beside him, her mask in her pack. She didn’t want to leave him alone.
Jolene watched as Gordon tried to wipe the powder off with the bottom of his shirt. Janey was doing the same. Janey looked up and caught Jolene’s eye and Jolene shuddered. Janey looked terrified.
“Shit ...” Jolene moved towards them to help.
Brian was on her heels. “Jo, don’t touch it,” he whispered.
“No shit, Sherlock.”
Jolene took Gordon’s arm. His skin was still red from his last exposure. She motioned for Janey to show her arm. Janey lifted her arm. Her skin was freckled and tan, as always. There was no sign of the white powder.
“Looks okay now, but we have to keep an eye out for any skin reactions that could erupt later,” Jolene said, her voice steady despite her growing concern.
She didn’t want to alarm Gordon and Janey, because some chemical reactions took time to show themselves, but it was a damn good sign that, so far, their skin was not showing any signs of immediate burn damage. She looked up at the thick treetops that took the brunt of the powdering, grateful they had not been out in an open field.
The group sat on the filthy ground just inside the large mouth of the pipe. No waste or water had run through it for a long time, which was a small mercy, at least. The planes hummed off in the distance. Gary and Alex passed around trail mix and small water bottles.
Mags leaned into Jolene, tired and quiet. Jolene wondered if the child was in a mild state of shock.
“Do you think they saw us and will come back around?” Siri asked in such a hushed tone, Jolene almost didn’t hear her.
“We can stay here for a breather and see. I don’t know if they saw us or not, but if they did, I think they would have just reversed and flown right back over. Sounds like they are heading to home base,” Jolene said, listening as the engine hum became all but silent.
Gordon rubbed his arm. “Maybe they did a precautionary flyover and never even spotted us. The treetops are pretty thick with leaves and none of us are wearing bright colors. We may have dodged a bullet there.”
His voice was so deep and commanding and confident, Jolene almost believed him, almost overrode the little voice deep inside her that wondered why there would be a ‘fatal flyover’ in the first place if there was nothing left to render fatal. For all she knew, they could have meant bugs, pests, or some kind of invasive species that had gotten into the trees and crops and grasses of rural Indiana.
She didn’t really buy that. The call for the fatal flyover had come over a ham radio channel normally not utilized by local agricultural companies or farmers. She knew their chatter. It wasn’t a restricted channel, either, which confused her. If Brian was right, and this was terrorist activity, wouldn’t the terrorists use an encrypted or blocked bandwidth? It
made no sense.
“We gotta figure out our next move,” she said. Half of her was concerned about staying where they were at. The other half didn’t give a shit.
She wanted a drink.
Brian took a swig of water, swirling it in the bottle. “A few years back in Oregon there was a town that got over-sprayed. Helicopters flying over residential areas and dropping pesticide that was supposed to be for private-owned timberlands on the perimeter of the town. Folks sued and got the company sanctioned. They won some measly amount, like ten grand each. 45 of the townsfolk got pretty sick, though. Some people think it was an experiment, to see how the chemicals would affect humans ...”
“I ain’t feeling any ill so far, Brian. And maybe, just maybe, this is nothing more than a way to rid the area of some disgusting little critter that is hurting our local farms. No reason to think otherwise,” Gordon said.
Brian shrugged and took another swig. “Yet.”
Gordon shot him a deadly look. Janey saw it and shook her head. “I think we need to stop and think logically here. The most likely explanation is a simple one, right? What is that thing, Occam’s razor? Looking for dark and spooky explanations for something that might be so simple, well that isn’t doing any of us good, is it?” Janey was so earnest.
Jolene leaned over and hugged her. “Janey’s right. The most important thing is to put our heads together and decide what to do next. Food, water, shelter, and access to information—that is what we need to be focusing on.”
“But what about that Crow guy?” Alex had been standing just outside the pipe opening and now looked like a silhouette against the sun behind him. “He said there were planes to the north, and casualties. Right?”
Brian cast a glance at Jolene.
She remembered he had something to tell her about Crow.
“Did he actually say people, Jo? Cuz maybe he was talking about cattle or chickens or birds falling from the sky. Did you hear him say people?” Alex asked.
Jolene thought hard for a minute. “I remember him saying casualties, a hundred or so, and I asked if he meant human.” She looked at the group. “But he never answered.”
Gordon let out a whoop. “There you have it. He indeed, as Alex pointed out, could have been reporting in on dead animals, birds, mice, what have you. He did not say humans.”
Jolene wanted to respond that he never said they weren’t humans. Why were drones out hovering in the woods if this was all about mice or cattle or chickens, but she saw such relief on the faces of the others, she let it go.
9
Jolene held the ham radio Gary had found, which was much heavier and newer than her FT-60. She had programmed several channels into it, mainly emergency channels from her disaster prep work, and, of course, the channel Crow had broadcast over. For now, it was dead quiet out there. Not even a DX-er from out of the country trying to make long-distance contact. Jolene was surprised because there was always chatter on one of the channels, even if it was just the sound of nearby repeaters testing.
They found the abandoned farmhouse about two miles from the drainpipe. The sprawling white house had been spotted through a grove of trees, and Gordon and Gary went on up ahead to check it out. The place was stocked well with food and water and a huge generator out back that was filled to the brim with fuel. As for human life, there was no sign of anyone being anywhere nearby. The farm animals were another story. Dead carcasses of cattle littered the fields. In the barn, horses and a couple of goats were rotting away. The guys closed the barn up tightly.
Gary stuck his bandana on a branch from a tree and put it out front where anyone passing could see it and maybe take it as a sign of life.
They shared a quiet dinner of soup and bread which looked to be on the verge of going bad, and sodas left in the fridge that stayed cool thanks to the generator. As night fell, they did not allow themselves the luxury of leaving any lights running, not wanting to attract drones.
In the darkness, as Mags slept, Jolene had time to do the one thing she knew she shouldn’t ... think. Her mind was a whirlwind of possibilities as she tried to put the pieces of the last few days together, but it was a puzzle of impossible shapes that didn’t fit together, no matter how hard she forced the pieces into place.
She felt a sudden rush of relief that Robby Jr. wasn’t with her, risking this, and that her parents had died years before. She didn’t have to worry herself to death over them. But the relief turned into a smothering, choking cloak of isolation and loneliness, and for the first time since Anne knocked on her door, she was grateful to have Mags to care for.
In the living room, Jolene could hear Gary, Gordon, and Janey talking. Siri had gone to sleep. Alex was in the attic above her, exploring boxes full of old books. She could hear his footsteps on the floorboards over her head, a strangely homey, comforting sound.
She wondered what Brian was doing and thought about finding him. She wanted to hear what he had to say about Crow. Mags stirred in the bed and changed her plans.
“Jo, do you think my mommy is dead?”
The question hit Jolene in the gut.
“Mags, your mom could be anywhere. I am not going to lie to you. Something strange has happened, but there is no reason to believe she is dead. She just may be in a situation, like we are, where she cannot get to us. We have to keep moving until we find a place where there are people and TV news and computers so we can get information. If your mom stayed at the clinic, she is probably waiting there for you.”
“But what if she went back to our house?” Mags looked up at Jolene with huge saucer eyes. The innocence in those eyes slew Jolene.
“She might and she will find our note, but I am pretty sure she is safe somewhere else,” Jolene said, stroking Mags’ soft hair, wishing the child would just close her eyes and stop asking questions. For a minute, Mags was quiet, and Jolene thought she had fallen back asleep.
“Jo ... are you scared?”
Jolene inhaled deeply and held her breath for a beat. “Yes. Yes, I am afraid, Mags. Only because I just don’t have enough information yet and that scares me. I like to know what is going on. But even though I am scared, it doesn’t mean we won’t be okay. I believe we will be fine. We just have to stay together and try to find somewhere with people who can help us.”
Mags eyed Jolene quizzically, studying her. Then she shrugged and squeezed her stuffed doggy, snuggling down into the covers. Within five minutes, she was once again asleep.
Jolene didn’t sleep for hours after that. She went into the kitchen long after the others had bunked down for the night. In the dark, but for a soft light from the full moon outside, Jolene looked in the cupboards for wine, beer, booze of any kind, she didn’t give a shit what it was, as long as it was alcohol.
She found nothing.
She went back to the bedroom, crawled into bed beside Mags, and cried herself to sleep.
Her sobriety was threadbare. She knew without a doubt that had those cupboards housed alcohol, she would have downed every drop of it. Her sponsor Noreen would say God was looking out for her, but Jolene would have begged to differ. That same God wiped out her town and sent her on the run with a little girl to protect and no idea why. God couldn’t have it both ways if she couldn’t. She wondered if Noreen was dead.
The cravings came in waves, and the only good thing about her current situation was the distraction it provided. At least the anxiety of being out here, with no clue as to what each day would bring, kept her focused on survival most of the time, and on Mags the rest. She couldn’t let any harm come to Mags. But, if she had to choose between Mags and a drink ...
Voices in the kitchen drew her out of bed and she quickly got dressed and left the bedroom door open for Mags. In the kitchen, Siri and Gary were making a breakfast of eggs and what looked like pancake mix. Gordon was going over a map while Janey looked on. Jolene passed on the eggs and opted instead for some bread with jelly on it and a tall glass of semi-cold orange juice. She set aside a couple
of pieces of bread that looked safe for Mags, then sat down with the others.
Thunder rumbled way in the distance, and Jolene wondered if it was now over Morris, or heading toward them. She couldn’t tell the direction.
“We can stay here for a while, Jo,” Gordon said. “There’s plenty of food and water, and a huge can of fuel for the generator. No drones in the woods.”
Jolene wished she could just eat her bread and jelly and not talk—or think for that matter—about their situation. She suddenly had an urge for black coffee. As if reading her mind, Siri poured her a mug and set it down in front of her. Jolene grunted a thanks and sipped the coffee. It was thick and not entirely hot, but it was coffee.
“I guess that all depends on a few things, like if the owners show up. But it is good for today,” Jolene said, staring into the blackness inside the mug. There was a light slick of oil on the top of the coffee. It didn’t matter.
She itched and craved. “Are there any cookies?” Jolene got up and looked in the cupboard, finding a box of Pop Tarts. She tore one packet open and checked them over, devouring both, noting that the shelves were filled with kid-friendly treats. Whoever lived here had kids. “I keep forgetting I’m eating someone else’s food.”
She looked at Janey, who smiled sympathetically. “I know, sweetie, but right now it’s all we got. And maybe we can be in a situation one day to pay these good people back.”
Jolene sat back down. “So, worst case scenario: we have to move again. What do you see?”
Gordon got up and moved the map closer so she could have a look. Jolene noticed his arm, where the white powder had made contact. It was slightly pinker than the surrounding skin.
“Here we are. If we did have to get back out there, we would probably want to head directly southeast, towards the city. Most likely to find people there. Might take us a few days, but we’d be moving through the woods and mostly semi-rural stuff, more roads, open fields,” Gordon said, pointing out the route and marking it with a yellow highlighter he had found.
Black Mariah: Morris, Indiana (Black Mariah Series, Season 1) Page 7
