Age of Winter

by Logan Keys

  Luckman realized how cut off they were from civilization in this place. The betrayal was that he’d found the Killing Cold, and he’d hid from it and not warned anyone. He was no hero.

  “You crashed… in a plane. Twice?”

  German rubbed the back of his head, grinning, but without the smile reaching his eyes. “Yes.”

  Cal shook his head. “So you,” he said to Luckman. “You knew this the entire time? That the fight, the house, saving the lives of people injured—it was all in vain? We were going to die anyway. Our time was running out!”

  Luckman wanted to argue with that. He had all these things he wanted to say to refute such an awful and terrible statement. But instead, he nodded.

  Cal lunged across the space, grabbing Luckman’s jacket. “I could have gone to my family, man,” Cal cried desperately. “I could have saved… someone. Anyone!”

  He meant Josephine, and Luckman held up a hand so that German wouldn’t intervene. He needed this. It wasn’t Cal’s fault. It wasn’t his fault. It was no one’s fault but the Killing Cold itself.

  “Is there nothing we can do?” Cal demanded, and Luckman shook his head.

  Cal began to weep, letting Luckman go and huddling in on himself. When he was through, he mopped his face and sat up. “So, now what?” he demanded, still wiping his nose. “What happens now?”

  Luckman shrugged with as much meaning as he could, not to seem flippant in the face of the younger man’s fear. Cal closed his eyes, whispering a prayer to himself. He was afraid because they were waiting for death. He was afraid because the waiting was the worst part.

  German gave Luckman a sad glance. He’d saved him, but no one could save them now. The temperature was dropping by the second. Luckman could see his breath fog out and the horses squeezed closer together like barometers of doom.

  It wouldn’t be long now.

  Chapter Three

  West Mississippi

  Bob and Michelle stood at the shoreline on the edge of the state of Mississippi with mixed expressions of awe and fear. “How…what…?”

  “Why?” Michelle finished.

  “Yes,” Bob said breathlessly. “Why?”

  “The weather-quake opened up the US from the gulf to here. There is water now where a state should be. This is where Louisiana should begin but…it’s…” Gone. She couldn’t say gone because it felt too final. Surely the entire state couldn’t be underwater could it?

  “I don’t mean why, scientifically,” Bob replied.

  Weather-quake was a term she’d coined, a thing that would have mattered in her job. Someone would have told her how cool it was that she’d made it up, and that they’d read and enjoyed her piece on the things leading up to such an event.

  “It makes sense. The levees would have gone and then the holes from the quake just…”

  “Filled up.”

  Now, none of that mattered. Bob had only shrugged when she’d asked him if he liked the name weather-quake. Then later, he’d agreed that it was fitting.

  Michelle’s voice was tight with tears that threatened. “I know you meant why did this happen.”

  And she did know. She knew Bob wasn’t asking why a giant lake the size of a small ocean had appeared in the middle of the US. She knew he was asking why. Why did this happen? Why him? Why her? Why all of humanity? But most of all, he was asking why because this is the way his family had supposedly come and there was no finding them now if they had come to this lake and rerouted.

  “They could have crossed it,” Michelle said, knowing how silly that sounded. With what? It wasn’t a lake of calm glassy water. Waves lapped at the shore and choppy white caps could be seen in the distance. Most likely parts of the continent were still clumping off into the water, no doubt causing all sorts of disturbances in the water.

  This was the new country, divided. “There is a metaphor in this somewhere,” Michelle said, and Bob grunted in answer.

  Split down the middle…nearly.

  “It’s night soon” Michelle said, knowing Bob was still thinking. But also knowing Bob would think for days if she let him. He liked to plot and plan his next move, and Michelle was more of a seat of her pants type. She had no experience with planning every nuance of her life before, why start now? The next story. The next big thing. That’s how she had moved through life. And in this moment, the next big thing was a lake that parked itself where it didn’t belong. This just in, Mississippians now finds themselves with extra water-front property.

  But then her mind settled into a numbing, sad lull as she realized the headlines would have been much more gruesome. Hundreds of thousands of lives lost in flooding. Millions missing or displaced. The end of an era…

  Much worse than that maybe: The end of it all…

  Michelle shook loose from those thoughts and turned on her heels and marched back to the car. To get to this point they’d had to find seven different vehicles, and even then, they had to find gas. Up north, it was eerily quiet, easier to find what they needed because so many had left or died. A frozen-ice capped place where people were freezing to death by the millions. Now that they were further south, they stayed away from major cities, finding several either completely destroyed or thick with riots. Looters and fires had torn down a few completely, leaving them empty shells of their former selves.

  The military left the north alone to freeze. Their heavy vehicles had gotten stuck in the ice, and Michelle had seen it firsthand. The images were burned into her brain, and she’d wished so many times she’d had her camera. Tanks behind blocks of ice, only the nose of their gun poking out, or Humvees stuck on the side of the road in slushed snow, broken down. What a story it would all have made once upon a time.

  The soldiers had abandoned the north, to maybe salvage the major cities down south, but they were losing on that front as well. Some of the citizens who held control in a savage way, fought back. Michelle and Bob had just avoided the populated areas after they saw the chaos. They wanted to make it to California, where his family promised to meet him. And now this. If they could cross it, then they might beat the cold down to the southern border in time.

  “Well,” Michelle said. “It’s almost night. Temp will drop too low. Let’s find some place to bunker down.”

  Bob sighed. “It’s a dangerous game, sleeping. The frost might catch up.”

  “It might.”

  “But you don’t think it will?” Bob slanted a look her way.

  Michelle cocked her head. “From the time we left Staten Island to the time we got back to the city and sent your family on their way, we had maybe a day or two and it moved only twenty miles. We’ve gone a lot further than that in a short amount of time. Even if it’s moving faster than before we should have plenty of time.”

  “Hmmm,” Bob answered in thought.

  His face cleared, and Michelle thought about how perfect a team they made. Together they could take on the world. Because when she ran out of hope, Bob passed some along. And when he ran out, as was the case right now, she could pretend that she knew math well enough to buy him some time.

  And that---that was why Michelle knew they’d make it. Because maybe it wasn’t up to the cosmos. Or to Reese and her idiots. Or the weather and shields. Maybe it wasn’t up to the sun. Maybe it wasn’t up to science. And maybe, just maybe, hope was beyond all of that. Hope, God, take your pick, because to her they were one-in-the-same these days.

  “What are you thinking?” Bob asked.

  Michelle frowned and spun back to face the new waterfront. She realized that before the lake would have been a crystal blue, and life would have sprung forth from the new water source. But now, it was gray, all of it. The sky, the reflection of the sky in the water, and even the air was tinged with ash as if they’d suffered fires in the town closest to this place.

  Everything pointed to hopelessness. Every single thing said that they would die. That the world would end. And that they would go quietly into the night.

  But…
/>
  “I’m thinking that we’ll make it. I’m thinking that we’ll find a way. And these tears are not ones of defeat. They are tears of fury. Because our planet is paying the ultimate price for our stupidity. But Bob, your family will see you again. I have no clue how I know it, but I do.”

  Bob stared deeply into Michelle eyes. He seemed so badly to want to see whatever it was that she could see. To find the bonfire inside of her that carried the torch for humanity. Instead of that, he nodded, accepting that she held it and that was enough.

  And was it enough? They would face worse. More people would look at despair and do the same. Hurt people hurt people.

  “I don’t want to go indoors, “Bob said. “Not yet. I think we should see if any of the neighboring towns have a store left. I’d like to try to find a tent and stay out here.”

  It wasn’t as strange as she’d once have thought. Bob didn’t want to let the lake out of his sight. As if tomorrow would be a fog, and the lake gone with it. The passage to his family gone, with everything else. But Michelle wouldn’t let that happen. And if they had to camp out under the stars, putting stakes into the soft beach soil, then so be it.

  She’d become aware, not long before this, that they were anchors for one another, tethering each other to their journey. And each took a turn lifting the other up. Such was their burden, but also, it was a gift.

  In the end of days, Michelle prayed that all could find such a gift, because to be without it would be to lose what once was in vain.

  Together they backtracked to the nearest town. It had burned beyond recognition. They found nothing in the stores, and no one around as if they’d fled in the fires and not returned. They drove to the next town, which was also burned, but one-half store was dilapidated with some goods in the aisles.

  “There are people here,” Michelle whispered as if they could hear her.

  And there were. People peeked out of their windows, staring at the two as they drove through.

  “We’re almost out of gas,” Bob said.

  Michelle searched for her gun. The people factor was scarier than the weather. Everyone was afraid. Fear made monsters of good humans. She now knew that. And would not trust so easily ever again. Things like trust were lost quickly in times like these.

  **

  Most of the goods were gone from the store but they found fishing poles, not that they planned to fish, but food wasn’t so abundant these days, so they packed them away with the cold weather tents and sleeping bags just in case.

  Other than that, they were mostly on their own.

  Just as they were about to leave, a couple approached them. They apparently lived across the road. They looked bruised and far older than they probably were. Their clothes were in rags, and Michelle suddenly thought about how she and Bob looked just as haggard.

  “Hi,” Michelle said, but she palmed her gun inside of her pocket.

  “Hello,” the man said. “My wife and I wondered where you all came from?”

  “North,” Bob said quietly then he added, “Have a lot of people been passing through.”

  The woman nodded. “Yes. Just had a group come through here not that long ago. They were going south. Most everyone is.”

  Bob’s face brightened. “And where are these people now?”

  “Are there any survivors from up north?”

  Michelle nodded slowly. “There has to be some. We survived.”

  The man looked relieved. “We are looking for our daughter. You see, she’s in Massachusetts.”

  “We are both from New York,” Michelle said, and the woman and man shared a glance and the woman squeezed her husband’s hand.

  “I told you. She could still come!” the woman said.

  “The people,” Bob said quietly obviously not wanting to interrupt but having to ask.

  “Boats,” the man said. “There were a ton of boats here for a massive evacuation, but they all left. We didn’t go. You see, we are waiting for Marcy.”

  “Boats?” Michelle asked.

  The woman answered, “Yes. That group was from New York as well, and they got on the last one.”

  Michelle grabbed Bob’s hand. “From New York? Are you sure?”

  Bob described his family in great detail and they both agreed that they thought it might be the same people. Bob sagged in relief. Now, to figure out their own ride across the lake.

  “How wide is the lake?” Michelle asked.

  “To Texas some said. All the way to the state line.”

  Michelle gasped. “Would they be across by now?”

  “I think so. It was a week or more that they left.”

  **

  “We might freeze but what a view. I’ve never camped next to water like this before.”

  The stars above reflected below, and Bob and Michelle had a moment of peace right there on the water. Beneath its waves was the ominous destruction. Entire towns and cities and freeways were sunken in its depths, but for now, they could pretend they were beachside, and nothing bad had occurred.

  “We are unlikely friends, aren’t we?” Michelle said with a smile.

  Bob laughed. “It’s true.”

  “Remember when we met? I was afraid to let you in my house.”

  Bob nodded. “But you did. Because you have a heart of gold.” He pointed a finger at her. But don’t do that again. Could have been a crazy person.”

  Michelle laughed. “Who said you aren’t crazy?”

  Bob chuckled. “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to find somewhere to stay instead?”

  “No.”

  Bob seemed pleased by that and he tucked into his sleeping bag without another word. She knew he didn’t want to leave the waterfront as if some answer would arrive while they remained there—a way to get one more step closer to his family.

  **

  Michelle woke sore and stiff. Her eyelashes felt glued together. It wasn’t quite as cold as it had been in New York, but it was getting colder every minute. She sat up with a crackling of layered ice that had accumulated on her sleeping bag. However, on the inside of it, she was still warm.

  Bob came into the tent with a grim look. Without a word, Michelle climbed out of the bag and followed him outside. A fog had arisen and at first, she thought that was what Bob wanted to show her, but instead, she gasped and covered her mouth. The sight of it had stolen her breath.

  A body. It had washed up on shore, and the waves were pushing and tugging it where it laid.

  As the tendrils of fog cleared, Michelle found that there were more. Along the entire shoreline, one after the other as far as the eye could see. The waves were bigger, too, crashing against the sand, eating away at the earth, and with it, were bodies and debris.

  The wind began to howl, and the air turned chillingly cold.

  “Let’s pack up,” Bob said quietly.

  Michelle followed him, grabbing her things. “What should we do?” she asked.

  Bob shrugged. “Go back to that town we were at before. Find an empty house.”

  She hated the defeated tone of voice he used, but what else could they do?

  Michelle packed quickly, and they made it to the Jeep just as the rain started.

  By the time they got to the town, the rain had turned to hail. Big balls of white bounced on the hood in a steady drum that rose in sound every few minutes until she could barely think.

  Michelle and Bob asked the couple if they knew of an empty house. They offered for Michelle and Bob to stay, but Bob said he didn’t want to bother them. Michelle knew it was also because Bob, like she, didn’t trust anyone anymore. They told them that there was one empty home just up the road on a dead end that the family had all perished in town during the quakes.

  Michelle felt guilty using a stranger’s home, but the hail was relentless, and they needed shelter. The couple told them to stay safe, and Michelle repeated the same. Then Bob steered them out of town and onto the dead-end where they
’d been told to go.

  “Hopefully no one else has the same idea,” Michelle said, and Bob nodded. She felt around the glovebox and found the gun. Just in case.”

  They pulled up to a house that would have been lovely once upon a time, but it was charred on one side. Not burnt through, just licked by the flames. Michelle felt sad to see that where there was once a lovely garden, now was a pile of ash.

  Carefully, Michelle and Bob approached the house after exiting the car. Bob called out, “Hello!”

  No one answered.

  They shared a look and Michelle knocked on the door but then moved to the side. Bob raised a brow at her. “In case they shoot through the door,” she said.

  “They might shoot through that window instead.”

  Michelle jumped out to the way of the window and he laughed.

  The door was unlocked when Bob tried it. “Trusting people around here,” he said.

  “Yeah.” Michelle entered the house, beating back the guilt once more. “Just anyone could come and try to live in their house during a hail storm. Like us.”

  The home was inviting, left untouched with goods and things. Michelle wondered why the couple they’d met hadn’t come to get the stuff. Probably because they didn’t want to steal from the dead. Michelle felt bad, but her stomach rumbled when she found canned veggies.

  Bob glanced at her stomach and his mouth twitched. “I’ll go get a fire started. Try not to eat the metal parts.”

  “Ha ha,” Michelle said, “I’ll make something as soon as you do.”

  They didn’t even wait for the soup to warm up all the way. They both ate it cold, starved. Michelle realized she’d lost weight. She’d been always at least fifteen pounds more than she thought was her best, but now, she must have lost near twenty pounds. “Funny” she said.

  “What?” Bob asked.

  “I always wanted to lose weight and be skinny. But now…” Michelle shrugged.

  “Now you’re afraid you might starve? Yeah. I remember feeling that way when I was on the run. I’d had to work out to stay in top physical condition for my job. Then I had to do it to survive. It felt different, somehow,” he added sarcastically.