by Lynn Lamb
“You know what you feel, Laura. I know you do,” he said firmly, eyes still closed.
I left my sleeping bag beneath him and grabbed my camera. “Hersh, come.”
I ran as fast as I could, but as the cold began to scorch my lungs, the snow swallow my legs and tears freeze to my face, I slowed. I realized I couldn’t hear his boots stomping behind me. Hershey must have thought that it was some kind of a game and slowed when I did. He was the only witness to my unforgivable crime, and I was thankful for his muteness.
Unforgivable crime… that’s what it was. Mark would never know, unless Jackson told him. I could blame it all on Jackson, but the truth was that we were both at fault.
My Catholic school training kicked in, and I raced to find Reverend John. Although he wasn’t Catholic, and therefore not under any obligation to keep my secret, I knew he would never tell. I was desperate to purge my sin.
Mark would never forgive me; I would never forgive me. What had I done?
∞
I never found a quiet moment with Reverend John.
Later in the morning, things were in full tilt. Chain saws and tractors were buzzing and whirring, and shovels were swinging in and out of the snow banks.
Jill, Mason and Granville decided that because of the icy density of the huge snow drifts we could build some of the caves above ground. I really wished that I would be one of the people in those rather than the underground caves, as I didn’t relish the idea of being buried alive.
Fear of being buried alive is a real phobia. It’s called taphophobia, and I have it. I don’t want to be buried when I die. I have such a bad phobia that I had decided long ago that I wanted to be cremated when it is my time. I even put it in my will before the Last War stole so many of those rights from us.
Fearful that I was running out of Karma credits as of late, I assigned myself an underground cave. Maybe that would be enough penance, if I may mix religious beliefs.
“With your issues, why would you put us underground when we could be topside?” asked Mark. Having no sleep was catching up with him. He was sitting at the radio in RV two, listening into communications with notes written from right to left spread out in front of him.
“I just did,” I said curtly. I was also running low on sleep and patience.
“So, I am supposed to keep you calm under there while you hyperventilate and suck up all of the oxygen? You are going to freak out, and you know it. And that is going to scare Bailey even more.”
“Bailey will be up top with Annie. And I can put you with someone else if that’s what you want,” I told him. I went into the bedroom of the RV and locked the door, unwilling to explain myself.
I heard him try the knob. “Whatever,” he yelled though the closed door.
I lay on the bed, and for the slightest moment I wondered why we were doing any of this. Why did we keep fighting to stay alive when the other humans, and even the earth, wanted us dead? Wouldn’t it just be easier to give in? I have never been a great believer in life after death, but wouldn’t it just be quieter— wouldn’t it just be over?
But we are humans, and we will fight for our survival, even when faced with insurmountable odds.
∞
As the day wore on, we became closer and closer to our goal.
I found a pair of boy’s all-weather gloves that fit me and began to help shape the emerging snow caves. My fingers were still freezing, but working outdoors felt right. Maybe part of the problem before the war was that most of us had stopped working outside. I noticed that I was able to stop thinking about everything; being attacked, making plans, Jackson. All I thought about was digging and packing ice.
We worked for three more hours, until it was too dark to continue. Tents went up, and we all knew this would be the last night we would be sleeping in a warm, synthetic structure, at least for the next few days.
Supper was MREs, so that we would learn how to make them before we went into hiding. We all sat together in the large tent and shared the experience with amusement. My meal was chili and macaroni. Why would anyone think that combo made sense? Everything came in separate, tan packets, and nothing looked very appetizing. Beggars can’t be choosers, right? We had been working hard in the snow, so we were all too hungry to opt out of our dinners. Mark’s military background kicked in, and he quickly made and ate his meal, then he left us to help transport the military surveillance equipment to our cave.
The kids loved the fact that they were allowed to cook with small heaters activated by water. It was like an edible science experiment to them. We took away the matches that came in the MREs, though. The hot cocoa and chocolate candy made the biggest hit. Even the adults savored the sweets that we rarely got any more. I saved my coffee to mix with the “brown water” we had in the mornings. Our rations were going much too fast still.
I wasn’t looking forward to the evening’s activity; “snow cave training,” as the military team was calling it.
The snow caves were mostly finished. Jill’s adaptations to keep them camouflaged were in place. We all put on our layers of clothing, which consisted of pretty much all of the clothing we brought with us.
I went with Bailey, Annie and Ammie to their above ground accommodations. Billy was already inside, setting sleeping bags on the ground and placing a couple of lanterns on the ice shelves.
“It’s cold in here,” said Bailey. Her eyes were large and frightened.
“Remember what Colonel Mason said, baby? When our bodies get together they generate what?” I asked, trying to prompt her memory and keep her calm.
“Heat,” she replied.
“Right,” said Ammie, rubbing Bailey’s shoulders protectively.
“Okay, see ya in about two hours,” I told her. “Guess what, I saved you my dessert. You can have it before bed.”
“Yay,” exclaimed Bailey in a way only a child excited about dessert could.
∞
I walked as slowly as I possibly could to the cave we were to share with Jake and Fitzpatrick, who would also be monitoring transmissions.
Fitz would not be joining us tonight because he was overseeing the training. He told Jake and me he would see us during the inspection. These bossy military people were missing something big; we never signed up for duty. We are not soldiers, at least not most of us.
Because our cave also needed a desk for the “communications station,” it was larger than the some of the others. We had less walking space, though.
The hatch of our dwelling was covered with tree boughs and greens fastened on the top of a piece of plywood which was sized for the cave’s opening and painted with that now too familiar white and gray camouflaged pattern. There was a metal handle on the inside, scavenged from one of the vehicles.
We climbed down a rope ladder. Jake helped me down and went back up to get Hershey. He handed him down to Mark. Hershey’s tail went flat. Even he knew this wasn’t right.
“Are you going to be alright in here, you know, with your problem?” asked Jake.
“Yep,” I said.
Mark sat down at his station but looked back to see my reaction to the place. I turned my face so he couldn’t look at me. I could tell that he wasn’t over our argument from earlier in the day by the way his head was cocked when he saw me. That cock of the head always warned me not to talk to him.
The room was small and the light was an eerie dim orange on the walls that incased us.
“We are like crabs in a deli case.” The thought made me giggle.
“Great, she’s already going off the deep end,” kidded Jake. I socked him in the arm, but I actually appreciated his levity. Jake had a way of making everything seem better than it was. That’s why I assigned him to his lunatic sister’s prison.
We did as we were told and left the trap door open. Someone came along after a few minutes to close us in.
“See how they used the PVC from Charlotte’s greenhouses for the ventilation system?” asked Jake. I knew he was trying to assuage my fear of b
eing buried alive.
“Thanks, and when you get a chance, Flight Attendant Jake, could you please bring me my peanuts?”
There was a folded chair in the corner, the kind with a drink cup in the armrest. I doubted that we would be getting a cold beer to fill it, but at least there was a place for us to sit.
Hershey went to rest under Mark’s desk, like he used to when Mark was on the computer back in the day. Dogs are creatures of habit too, I guess.
The first few minutes were all about getting a feel for our new environment, but there wasn’t really much to see in our six-by-eight foot freezer. I am good at coming up with refrigeration metaphors, aren’t I?
It was gradual, the feeling of being entombed, as were the heart palpitations that accompanied it. Every time I tried to not focus on my fears, they would flood my mind even more.
Years ago, I watched a documentary about burial rituals. That’s when my nightmares started. Before the advent of modern medicine, accidentally burying the living was not unheard of. It happened enough for someone to invent “the coffin bell.” It was a crude system where a rope was tied on to the wrist of the (most likely) deceased person. If they were to awaken in their coffin, they could alert anyone who might be hanging around their graveside. It was even patented.
Edgar Allan Poe’s The Tell-Tale Heart puts me in a tailspin to this day.
As I write this, I realize that I am still thinking about it. This will not serve me when the time comes to come back down here for the real deal.
So, let me go back to my time in the snow cave this evening.
It felt like an out of body experience. I could see myself sitting on the sleeping bags on the ground, rocking back and forth. I couldn’t seem to bring myself to stillness. It was cold, yet I began to sweat.
Mark was explaining the radio system to Jake, just in case. Life was filled with so many “just in cases” anymore.
After a while, they each put on a set of thick headphones. I heard their voices, but they sounded like they were in a deep tunnel, far away. The feeling of needing to pull it together was real. I forced myself to give up the comfort of rocking, instead deciding to find a place on the ice walls to stare at.
Maybe I should have allowed myself to rock, because when I stopped, I began to shake. At first, it was only a tremble; a minor tremor. But it grew as time passed.
My sweet dog was the only one intuitive enough to notice my distress. I lay down on the sleeping bags, and he came and snuggled into me, firmly placing his head on my shoulder. It helped for a few minutes.
The two men sharing this small dwelling with me were much too entrenched in their task to notice that I had taken a turn for the worse. Actually, I was glad. I didn’t need them to fawn over me, or worse, force me into switching with someone so that I could have it easier. I wasn’t even certain that inhabiting an above ground cave would help. It still meant being buried alive.
Fitzpatrick finally came down the rope ladder and took in the scene. He immediately came over to me.
“Hey, guys,” he said loudly enough for them to hear him, even with the headphones on. Mark and Jake glanced back and saw him kneeling by my side. “Did you notice that one of your party is in shock?”
They both threw off their headphones and rushed over. I decided to stand to prove that I was just fine. In retrospect, that was stupid.
I remember waking when we hit the snow just above the cave. I was being carried by Mark and Fitz was calling for the Doc.
Man, I need to stop doing this damsel in distress shit. I do not like being carried.
Before I knew it, I was in the RV and the Doc was checking my pulse.
I sat up. “I’m fine, leave me alone.” I pulled my wrist out of his grasp.
“Apparently not,” said Malcolm. “People who are fine don’t faint. Why didn’t you tell me about your claustrophobia?”
“Because I don’t have claustrophobia.” I sounded like a brat, and I knew it. “I have taphophobia; the fear of being buried alive. I can sit in a box all day long if you need me to prove it. I’m okay. Just let me have a minute.”
“How long has it been since you slept?” he asked.
I didn’t know.
“Your pulse is running like a race horse,” said Malcolm. “Your blood pressure is too high, and it’s putting too much pressure on your heart. We don’t need you have a heart attack, do we?”
“No, you just flat out need me. Everybody needs me, and I just can’t anymore.” I was rambling like a crazy person when I saw the Doc fill a syringe with something in a little glass bottle. “NO WAY. Can’t you just leave me alone?”
Mark was holding me down on the bed as I struggled to free myself. I looked at the faces around me. My brother’s eyes were filled with guilt.
I heard Jackson’s voice. When did Jackson get there? “If she doesn’t want the shot, then don’t give it to her,” he said. Jackson is on my side? This was new.
“She’s my wife, and she is going to give herself a heart attack. Doc, give it to her,” Mark ordered.
I guess that they figured, what’s she going to do, sue us?
January 3
I woke when it was still very dark outside. My head felt heavy, but I forced myself to wake even though it hurt to be awake. It would have been so easy to just sleep forever.
I sat up in the unfamiliar surroundings, but I could hear Mark’s gentle snoring next to me. We must have bumped someone out of their bed in the RV and into a tent, which made me feel like I was abusing my power.
Maybe it was whatever the Doc had shot me up with, or just everything that has gone down in the past two days, but I began to sob and shake.
Mark’s arm came over my shoulder, and he pulled me into his warmth. “I am so sorry, it’s my fault,” he said.
“It’s mine,” I told him. “I’m sorry, too.”
“The Doc is going to give you some sedatives when it’s time to go into the snow cave,” he told me. “Katie said that with taphophobia it probably won’t matter if you are underground or topside; you will still have the feeling of being buried. I want you to be close to me, so please don’t change your cave. I promise that I will pay attention this time, and Jake said he won’t leave your side if you need him.”
“Mark, I don’t need saving. It just got away from me this time. I can do it. I’ll take the meds and it will be fine.”
“Last night, I heard some messages,” Mark said softly. “I want to give you a heads-up, it’s coming soon. I don’t know exactly when, just soon. But we are all going to be alright.”
Why do we always say that it’s going to be alright; like somehow saying it will make it so?
“Oh, one more thing,” said Mark. “I punched Jackson in the face again last night.”
∞
Mark’s calm breathing eventually turned into his trademark snoring. Sometimes he would snore, wake himself up and ask me if he was snoring. He has been doing that for years.
I couldn’t sleep anymore. Mark’s words started to churn in my mind and stomach. So, I decided to catch up on my journal entries. A lot has happened in the last few days.
When the sun slowly started to peek through the mountains, I quietly stole away into the shower. It was my day on the shower schedule, and I needed it. My hair was looking something akin to red dreadlocks, and I couldn’t pull off that look.
It took a while to get the tangles out of my hair. When I finally toweled it dry, I took a look in the mirror. I went from a red-Bob-Marley to a red-poodle. I pulled it back into a ponytail.
I caught a glimpse of Annie in the window as I left the bathroom. It was as good of a time as any to start the day, so I tiptoed past my sleeping friends and shut the RV door quietly behind me.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Annie said as she poured a bucket of water onto the base of a nearby tree. Bailey was just behind her.
“Laura, I got to sleep in the RV with Grandma Annie last night. It was our turn, and it was amazeballs,” she t
old me. Bailey was as awake as only an eight-year-old child could be this early in the morning.
“You have been hanging out with Ammie a little too much I think,” I said. I was glad that neither of them seemed to have heard about my meltdown. I hugged her, and they disappeared into RV one.
A few hundred yards away I could see some of the Villagers smoothing out the snow with the lids of our sixteen-gallon plastic containers. Mason said that some of the enemy’s gear might make it possible to see something as small as footprints in the snow. Today we would all be confined to a small area under the trees.
No one else was awake, so I thought I would grab a lid and help in the efforts.
Before I could get to the truck that housed our belongings in those containers, I saw Jackson coming straight at me. I considered ducking out of sight, but I knew it was too late.
“Nice shiner,” I said when I got a look at his very black eye.
“Heh,” he scoffed, and he kept walking.
“Why am I so mean to you?” I asked him. “I never talk to anyone like this.”
“Lucky me. Maybe you will stop when you realize how you really feel about me,” he said.
He couldn’t stop himself from aggravating me just like I couldn’t stop spitting hateful words at him.
I picked up some snow, packed it in a ball in my gloved hands and before I knew what I was even doing, I threw it at the back of his head and yelled out, “Not a snowball’s chance in hell!”
He stopped. “Heh,” he chuckled, still not looking my way. “I would even follow you there. At least we’d be warm.”
No, my life’s not at all complicated.
∞
I spent about an hour smoothing out the snow until the big meeting started. I wasn’t in charge of this one. They asked me to say a few words at the very beginning, and that was it. I could sit back and listen like everyone else.
“Good morning, Villagers,” I said. “I hope that you all had a good night’s rest because yesterday was a doozy. I am so proud of all of you. Now, here is Colonel Mason and his team to fill us in on today’s activities.”
“Thank you, Laura,” Mason said while trading places with me. I stood listening as Mason gave the group the news they had been both dreading and wanting to get over with.
