Surviving the Fog

by Stan Morris

  Surviving the Fog

  Stan Morris

  Have you ever been to summer camp? What would you do if almost all of the adults left “for a few hours” and they had not returned a week later? What would you do if no one’s cell phone worked and your parents never showed up to take you home? What would you do if you realized that the area was surrounded by a mysterious brown fog that was dangerous? How would you survive the winter? How would you get more to eat?

  This is what Mike, John, Desi and the other campers have to contend with in Surviving the Fog.

  Warning: sexual situations, cursing, brief violence.

  Stanley Morris

  SURVIVING THE FOG

  Prologue

  They drift through space in their own orbit unrelated to the orbits of the planets, the stars, or the galaxies. Their colonies stretch for thousands of light years, and have no shape; they may be elongated, or they may be circular. They may even be cubed; or their shape may be a combination of shapes like a dry but wadded paper towel.

  They can be detected, but only by using the most sophisticated of instruments, and then only by the most advanced space faring societies. Otherwise, they are invisible and undetectable.

  They can be killed. Sometimes they drift into the path of a star and they burn. Sometimes they drift in the void for too many eons and they dissolve. Sometimes they drift into the path of a spear of gamma rays from an exploding star and they are sterilized. If they are detected by a space faring society that understands what they are and has the capability to do so, they are usually sterilized.

  They cannot procreate on their own. They must have a host. A star with an unfortunate oxygen and water bearing planet must spin its way into their web. Even when they are fortunate to infect such a planet, it takes years for them to coalesce in the atmosphere. While they coalesce, they must disguise themselves as a pollutant. But once they have coalesced they can become semi solid in a very short time; as short a time as twenty four hours.

  Chapter One

  “SOMETHING’S WRONG”

  “Something’s wrong,” Mike said.

  “No, shit, dude,” John answered.

  The two teenagers were sitting on a ledge just inside a large depression carved into the side of a granite rock that was part of the southern Sierra Nevada mountain range. It would have been called a cave, but it was open to the air except for a large alcove room tucked back on the east side. The ledge extended for several feet out from under the rock. The late May sun was trying to cast its rays inside the depression, but the boys were far enough back so that the heat could only reached their feet.

  “Do you think they’re coming back?” Mike asked.

  “Why wouldn’t they?” his friend answered.

  Before them was a long gentle, green grassy slope that slanted down to a small river which entered the valley from the east. The swift cold river flowed west through the valley until it vanished into the tall green fir trees where it continued many miles until it fell down into the Southern California central valley. It was a large stream really, but the water was rushing too quickly to wade through, and it was much too wide to jump.

  “Maybe their jeep crashed,” Mike hazarded a guess.

  “Maybe Jackie is right?” John answered. “Maybe, they can’t get back.”

  On this side of the river, stood the five cabins of the boys’ camping area plus the corrugated metal roof dining hall, and the Administrator’s A-frame cabin. A narrow wooden bridge spanned the river. On the other side of the river were the five cabins of the girls’ camp, the parking lot with the large yellow bus, and the beginning of the gravel road which led southeast over a small hill and then southward through the mountains until it reached a paved road leading southwest towards Bakersfield.

  “Maybe their jeep fell into a canyon. Maybe they’re all dead,” Mike suggested.

  John frowned. “I wish you would quit saying stuff like that, dude,” he groused. “When they come back, we’re going to have to listen to those lectures. And they’re going to force us to have fun. Can’t you just kick back and enjoy the day? Hell, check out the view from here, Mike. Look, Desi is coming from the showers. Wow!”

  Sometimes, the boys felt like they were in a long oblong bowl running east to west with the camp on the east side. On the west side was a long meadow through which the river rushed. Most of the meadow was on the girls’ side of the river. Violets, marigolds and chickweed dotted the meadow. All around the bowl, the mountains of the Sierra Nevada stood watch. The bare peaks of the chiseled mountains were covered with pristine white snow. Lower down, the slopes were forested by groves of southern foxtail pine. Closer to the camp grew stands of bristle cones and white bark.

  “When do you think they’re coming back?” Mike asked.

  “I don’t know,” John muttered, as the well proportioned girl he was watching disappeared into her cabin.

  The trouble had started a week ago. The first indication that something was wrong came when the ancient post office jeep had not made its daily delivery of mail that the boys and girls usually received from their anxious parents. That same morning the camp radio and their cell phones seemed to be having a problem. For some reason, they would not connect with the world outside of the valley.

  After a few more days of the same, the Camp Administrator had decided to travel the thirty miles to the nearest post office, pick up a backup radio, and collect the late mail. Three of the four counselors had elected to go with her, and take a well deserved break from their rambunctious charges. They had expected the trip there and back to take a little more than two hours due to the narrow winding road. They had left the last counselor, twenty year old Jackie, in charge of the forty eight boys and girls. That had been six days ago. There had been no sign of the adults since then, and again today the mail jeep had not arrived.

  The first night after the Administrator and the other counselors had not returned, Jackie had insisted that they were late, and that everyone should go to bed as usual. The next evening, Jackie had suggested that the road was probably blocked by a landslide, and that the adults would be back as soon as the road was cleared. Since then, they had waited.

  “Something’s wrong,” Mike said again.

  “Yeah, but what?”

  Mike was thirteen and John was almost sixteen. Mike was fair skinned, sandy haired and a little short for his age. John was a brown Latino with black hair, and he was a foot taller. The two typical California boys had become fast friends the first day of camp in spite of their age difference.

  “Eric knows how to work the radio phone. We should ask him to try to call someone,” Mike suggested.

  “Yeah, but the radio phone is in the Admin’s cabin,” argued John. “And her cabin is locked.”

  Mike looked at John. “It’s been a week,” he replied. “Something’s wrong, John. And Jackie probably won’t care if we go into the Admin’s cabin.”

  John looked depressed at that statement. For the first three days, Jackie had frantically tried to keep their minds off the missing adults. Then she had gotten real quiet, and she had stopped trying so hard to pretend that nothing was amiss. Today, she had refused to get out of her bed for a long time, and then after she arose, she had refused to leave the counselor’s cabin.

  “Jackie won’t care,” Mike repeated. “Let’s go talk to Eric.”

  They found Eric in the dining hall. The cinder block dining hall was one quarter kitchen, and three quarters dining area. The kitchen appliances consisted of a large propane refrigerator, an oven, a stove, and two large freezers. The dining area contained several long white plastic tables and many white plastic chairs.

  Eric was sitting on one of the plastic chairs engrossed in a paperback book with his fee
t up on a cardboard box. He was rocking back and forth on the hind legs of his chair, which was threatening to topple over. Eric was a small African-American boy with short curly hair about Mike’s age. Many of the other campers considered Eric to be a nerd.

  Cardboard boxes were stacked along the windowless north wall of the dining area. The boxes contained packets of condoms, diaphragms and birth control pills. These items were there due to the purpose of the camp.

  The camp was a creation of a religious organization called Abstinence and Protection. AAP, as it was known, had created the camp as a place to promote the value of abstaining from sex, but also to familiarize middle school and high school boys and girls with birth control methods. The organization had planned to hold several three week camps this year. The current group of boys and girls were the first campers. They were supposed to take some of the condoms and a few of the diaphragms with them when they left. The idea was that they would share what they had learned with their friends.

  The Camp Administrator was a doctor. Those girls who were at least sixteen years old were supposed to have been offered physical examinations and birth control pills with the consent of their parents. But the real emphasis of the camp was on abstinence, not just for moral reasons, but because the creators of AAP believed that the emotional repercussions of sexual intercourse were too difficult for young teenagers to contend with in the present societal environment.

  As Mike and John came into the dining hall, Eric put the old dog eared book aside and tried his cell phone again, only to receive a no-service message from his phone.

  “What are you reading, nerdo?” John asked.

  “‘Tunnel in the Sky’,” was Eric’s choppy answer. He was not particularly fond of John.

  “Scifi?” John asked.

  “Yeah. Some real old stuff. Like from Verne and Wells’ time.”

  “You can work the radio phone, huh Eric?” Mike asked.

  “Yeah, if it wasn’t locked in the Admin’s,” answered Eric, who added under his breath, ‘Doofus.’

  Mike looked at John who looked back at Mike. Then John sucked in a breath and looked at Eric.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  Eric looked at him blankly. “Where to?” he asked, puzzled by the command.

  “Come on,” growled John, giving Eric that special ‘bigger boy’ look.

  Like all smaller boys, Eric knew that look. He shrugged, stood, and sullenly followed Mike and John. They led the way to the Administrator’s A-frame cabin. For a minute, Mike and John studied the sturdy lock on the structure.

  “Think you could bust it open with your shoulder?” Mike asked.

  “I think I could bust my shoulder,” John answered, frowning at Mike. Eric rolled his eyes and waited patiently.

  “We could break a window,” Mike suggested.

  “Hey!” Eric exclaimed. The other boys looked at him.

  “Got a better idea?” John asked.

  Eric glanced from John to Mike. He ducked his head and scuffed a toe.

  “There’s a key under the mat,” he muttered.

  John gave Eric a menacing look, and then he lifted the mat and retrieved the key. He opened the door, and Mike and John went inside. After a moment Eric followed, after looking around anxiously to see if anyone was watching them.

  The A-frame cabin consisted of the living area below a large loft. There was a steep staircase at the back of the cabin leading to the loft. The cabin had a double bed, and it had a sink which was fed by a small water line that was connected to the main water line serving the dining hall.

  The main water line, made of PVC pipe, ran down from the river. It had a large washable inline filter just before the junction of the two lines. Gravity provided the pressure for the kitchen sinks, bathrooms, and the showers in the dining hall building. A solar pump provided additional pressure to the A-frame’s sink.

  There was no bathroom in the cabin. The Administrator used a portable toilet just like the campers, except that she used one which was reserved just for her and the female counselors.

  The other furniture in the cabin consisted of a small sofa, two chairs, and a large desk. A large red tool chest sat against the wall at the back of the cabin. On the desk was the radio phone. It had circuitry for several frequencies.

  John handed the radio phone to Eric. Eric tried all the frequencies. Although there were some suspicious noises, they could not make out anything that sounded like a real voice. On each frequency, Eric asked if someone could hear him. He tried repeatedly. After a half hour, he gave up.

  “Maybe it’s broken,” John said. Eric looked at him.

  “I don’t think so,” he replied.

  “So why can’t we hear anybody?” Mike asked.

  Eric took a deep breath, and then he looked at Mike. His eyes had worry in them. “Maybe…maybe there isn’t anyone to hear?” He asked the question with a look which suggested that he would be happy to hear them make fun of that idea.

  All week, Mike had avoided thinking this very thought. Get up, play, do your chores, eat, play some more, and then go to bed. He had followed the camp routine. The adults would be back. His parents were at home. He had avoided considering any other scenario. But now, he had to face a terrifying possibility.

  “There’s something very wrong,” he said, his voice shaking.

  “Yeah,” agreed John glumly.

  “Do you think our parents are all right?” whispered Eric, his stomach fluttering.

  Mike really wished that Eric had not asked that.

  “We’ve got to do something,” Mike said.

  “Let’s go talk to Jackie,” John suggested.

  “All right,” Mike replied, but privately he didn’t think that Jackie knew what to do any more than they did.

  They left the Admin’s cabin, walked past the dining hall, and tromped over the wooden bridge to the girls’ side of the camp. Eric followed along silently. Mike and John ignored him.

  Of the cabins on each side of the river, one on each side was reserved for the counselors. Two counselors shared each cabin. The counselors slept in comfortable double beds, instead of the bunk beds used by the teenagers.

  The three boys found Jackie lying in her bed, on top of her covers, staring at the canvas ceiling. Although the campers and counselors had brought sleeping bags, all the beds were covered by a mattress cover, two sheets and two heavy woolen green blankets. Some of the campers preferred to sleep in their sleeping bags. Others used the blankets, so they wouldn’t have to roll up their bags at the end of the three week camp.

  “Hey, Jackie,” John greeted her.

  The young woman looked over at him listlessly. Jackie was a young woman with blond hair and a slim build. She was usually quite attractive, but her face and eyes seemed red and swollen now, and she was emitting a faintly unpleasant odor.

  “Hey, yourself,” she replied as she glanced at them, and then her eyes turned towards the canvas ceiling again. The boys looked at each other.

  “Um… Jackie, when do you think the Admin will be back?” John asked.

  “She’ll be back when she’s back,” Jackie answered in a dull voice. She had heard this question often in the week since the other adults had disappeared. She closed her eyes. John looked at Mike helplessly.

  Mike took a breath and then spoke firmly. “Jackie, we think that something is wrong. Something is really, really wrong, Jackie.”

  “There’s nothing wrong. Now go away,” Jackie ordered.

  “But, Jackie, Eric tried to get someone on the radio phone. There’s no one there!” Mike’s voice was rising with a hint of panic, as he tried to get through to the young woman.

  “You stay out of the Admin’s place!” snapped Jackie. “Now go away.” She turned her head towards the wall.

  The boys look at one another.

  “So what’s the lecture about tonight?” John asked.

  “Just leave me alone,” she demanded, as she turned and pulled a blanket over her head.<
br />
  The muffled reply sounded almost like a sob.

  Defeated, the boys left her cabin. Outside, several girls were standing around waiting. They followed the boys until they were far enough away that Jackie could not hear them talk.

  “She’s been like that all day,” said a black eyed girl named Makayla. “She just keeps saying that the Admin and the other counselors will be back soon. I’m really getting scared.”

  “Me, too,” a girl named Kathy said, with a quiver in her voice.

  “Do you think she’s right?” a third girl asked.

  The boys looked at one another.

  “Not really,” Mike admitted.

  “When do you think our parents will come looking for us?” Makayla asked.

  “I don’t know,” Mike answered. Kathy choked back a sob.

  There was nothing more to say. The boys crossed the bridge to their side of the river. Eric went back to the dining hall, while Mike and John walked west along the river. Trying to distract themselves, they discussed which of the three girls that they had just left, they liked best. They avoided the subject of the missing adults.

  At one point, they sat down and watched some girls who were practicing archery on the other side of the river. The girls were using hay bales. The boys were supposed to practice as a group also, but there were no male counselors to lead them. These girls had obviously decided to practice on their own. Another girl was running around the huge crude track that had been plowed around the meadow and flattened by truck tires.

  “Who’s the girl running?” Mike asked.

  “I’m not sure what her name is,” John answered.

  “She’s cute.”

  “Yeah, but she’s no Desi.”

  “How old is she?” Mike asked hopefully.

  “I think she’s fifteen,” John replied.

  Mike grimaced. He had discovered that fifteen year old girls generally showed very little interest in thirteen year old boys. As it grew dark, the boys walked back up the river to their cabins.