The Journal: Fault Line (The Journal Book 5)

by Deborah D. Moore

  “What will we do if we catch someone stealing?”

  “We call Marty. I know it seems minor, but food is still scarce, and this is still theft and shouldn’t be tolerated.”

  “What about an electric fence?” Christine asked.

  “We could do that, although those are mostly for animals and there are ways around them for humans. Let’s start with the camera. That’s the least expensive option since I already have one. We’ll need an extra VCR though.”

  “It might not be for long, so why don’t we just use the one on the TV? Most of the time we use the DVD player if we watch a movie,” she suggested.

  ***

  The first few nights showed nothing on the tape player that was hidden in the garage and wired to the camera on the other side of the thin wall.

  “Are you two sure you didn’t just miss seeing the beans?” Marty asked. When Marion raised her eyebrows at him, he said, “Never mind. Maybe there will be something tonight.”

  “And that would be logical, since vegetables are fairly regular in the rate they are ready to pick,” Marion said.

  “Well, if tonight might be a good time to catch our culprit, I think we should watch the tape real-time from inside the garage and be ready to apprehend our thief,” Trevor suggested.

  “And I also think we should rig a spotlight. It might help to detour any further hijinks,” Marty said.

  At midnight, when the sky was completely dark, Marty and Trevor waited silently inside the garage. The person-door had been left slightly open and the hinges recently oiled to eliminate any noise. The only light came from the silent screen that displayed the infrared images coming from the hidden camera.

  Then there was movement. Trevor pointed to the screen and Marty nodded as they watched a person climb the fence that separated their yard from the one behind. The person looked around and went straight to the garden, filling his pockets with beans and onions.

  Marty was out the door and silently moved into position. After a previously agreed count, Trevor flipped the switch and flooded the entire garden with light, exposing the armed chief of police to the invader.

  “I think you picked the wrong house to rob, young man,” Marty said with his gruffest police voice. The culprit looked at the gun pointed at him.

  “They’re only a few vegetables!” he whined.

  “You’ve been stealing my wife’s beans for over a week now,” Marty replied, “and stealing is stealing. Besides, in this day and age, raiding someone else’s garden is a felony!”

  “Your garden?” the young man said. “Oh, shit.” He put his hands in the air.

  “Our garden,” Trevor corrected. “My wife and the chief’s wife have been working hard to grow a few things for us and you’ve been taking that away from them.” He turned to Marty. “What are we going to do?”

  “Since it’s in your yard, Mr. Monroe, it’s up to you. Do you want to press charges?” the chief asked, giving Trevor a look that said to follow his lead.

  “I think that would be best,” he answered.

  ***

  “Jail?” the young man went back to whining while Marty put handcuffs on him and escorted him to the back seat of the police cruiser, and drove to the police station and jail, with Trevor following in his car.

  “If you will just sign here, Mr. Monroe, that should take care of it,” Marty said, sliding a sheet of paper across the desk. Their backs were to the jail cell, and the nervous young man couldn’t see that the complaint form was blank.

  “How long will Mr. Smith be incarcerated, Chief?” Trevor asked, playing along.

  “It will depend on his behavior, but I would say three or four days. Do you feel that’s sufficient, Mr. Monroe?”

  Trevor turned and looked at the sulking figure seated on the single bed. “I think that should do it.”

  After Trevor left the building, Marty handed the new prisoner a plastic cup.

  “What’s this for?”

  “You use the cup to drink water from the tap, Mr. Smith,” Marty answered.

  “Aren’t you going to feed me?”

  “Let’s get something straight, kid. Obviously you know there is a severe food shortage since you were stealing food. This town is in trouble. Our resources are next to nothing. I don’t know how or when I can get you anything to eat.” Marty stared for a bit longer and then said. “Lights will go out when I leave, and will be back on in the morning. Get yourself comfortable.”

  ***

  At two o’clock in the morning, Marty returned to pick up his wife.

  “How’s our prisoner doing?” Trevor asked, sipping on a cup of tea.

  “Asking for food. That kid is only seventeen, and hungry. Apparently he’s been snitching things from several gardens to feed himself since his mother died in the last round of flu.”

  “In the morning I’ll bring you a loaf of bread,” Trevor said. “A bread and water diet might be more than he’s been eating lately.”

  ***

  The next morning, as promised, Trevor dropped off a loaf of bread from the store to feed the new prisoner.

  “Marty, I’ve been thinking. What do you think of a work release program for the kid? By the way, what’s his name?”

  “His name is Max. What did you have in mind for this work program?”

  “He could come to the store one day a week for a few hours to sweep floors or stock shelves. For that I could give him another loaf of bread. Once I can feel out his personality, maybe even suggest he do odd jobs for others, and be paid in food,” Trevor suggested.

  Marty looked at his friend for a long moment. “You’re a good man, Trevor.”

  ***

  “Just bread?” Max protested feebly.

  “And you can thank Mr. Monroe for it. Yeah, the man you’ve been robbing has donated this food during your stay in my jail,” Marty turned and left the young man to his six slices of bread.

  ***

  Two days later, Trevor sat outside of the jail cell.

  “For a couple of hours a week, I’ll give you a loaf of fresh bread and one can of vegetables. I don’t really need the help, Max, but I also don’t want you stealing from my wife’s garden again. What do you say?” Trevor watched the young man on the other side of the bars.

  “Thank you, Mr. Monroe. I accept your offer,” Max sniffled. “Since my mom died, it’s been… hard. I’m really sorry for what I did.”

  ***

  That evening for dinner the four friends enjoyed their first bowl of fresh green beans with thinly sliced onions and croutons over a bowl of rice.

  In the background, the TV news reported the Caribbean rift had shifted, resulting in a massive tidal wave.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Holly was barking furiously.

  “What’s the matter, girl?” Christine patted the dog’s silky head, knowing Holly rarely barked at anything. “What was that?” she said, now alarmed by the movement under her feet.

  Marion stood from where she was weeding in the vegetable garden and looked around. “I don’t know.”

  The tremor rumbled again, stronger. “It’s an earthquake!” Christine cried. “It feels just like when I was in that hotel during the New Madrid quake.”

  They stood there, silently waiting. When no other movement came, the two women went back to weeding.

  ***

  “Did you feel the earthquake earlier?” Trevor asked Christine over their after-dinner tea.

  “Yes. I wonder where it was located. When the New Madrid happened, did you feel it here?”

  “Not really. A few bottles rattled together at the store, but that’s all. Maybe this time it was closer, or maybe bigger, if we could feel it. I wonder if there will be anything on the news about it.” He flipped through several channels before finding a news station.

  “…can tell you folks is that a small portion of the Yellowstone Caldera has erupted. The shock wave was felt as far east as West Virginia.”

  Trevor skipped to the next
channel. The footage being shown started clear and ended with heavy static and a blurry picture. After the first quake this morning, Yellowstone Park had been evacuated of the few visitors. The second quake prompted the staff to make a hasty exit, but for some of them it was too late. They did provide enough information to explain what had happened.

  “I’m standing about a mile from Yellowstone Lake, up on the rise near Park Point,” the disembodied voice stated. A park ranger was using his phone camera to show the panorama. The multi-acre lake shimmered and sloshed just as the second quake hit and the camera jiggled when the ranger lost his footing. Once steady again, the picture cleared. “Holy, shit! The lake… it’s disappearing! Let’s get out of here.” The ranger had spoken to a fellow worker as he sent the video to the nearest TV station.

  A very tired looking young woman came on the screen. Simone Johnston, a geologist specializing in seismology, moved a few papers on her desk and looked up. “From what we’ve been able to piece together from the readings that come into our office automatically and this video you just watched from the brave but foolish park ranger, the second quake, a 9.7 on the Richter Scale, opened a massive fissure here,” she said, pointing to a chart, “and in a matter of seconds, that fissure emptied billions of gallons of water down into the molten lava, creating an explosion that went beyond our instruments. What it did, in short was waken this simmering subterranean volcano.” She looked right at the camera and said, “It’s no longer subterranean. We now have an active, make that a very active, thirty-mile wide volcano that continues to grow and continues to spew lava at an alarming rate. With each belch, it builds the volcanic height, giving the smoke and ash it produces longer range.” With that, the picture cut back to the news room.

  “Oh, my…” Christine said in a hushed voice. “I wonder what that means for us this far east?”

  “Let’s find out,” Trevor said and switched channels again, back to a local one.

  “…evening everyone, it’s July 17, and we are going right to the breaking news: Yellowstone National Park has experienced several strong earthquakes today. The latest one was a 9.7 and it was by far the worse one and the one with the most possible damage.” The anchor turned in her seat. “Matt, can you tell us what this is going to mean weather-wise for us?”

  “That’s going to be difficult, Cynthia, although I have been poring over the wind charts since this latest eruption,” Matt Zika, replied. “What I can tell you is it’s not going to be good, no matter what the winds do. We are in the center of the path for the volcanic plume,” he moved his hand to encompass a large area. “It’s been several hours since the eruption and we now know that the pyroclastic cloud has reached out and done its damage.”

  “What is that?” the anchor asked.

  “A pyroclastic cloud is superheated gas moving at almost five hundred miles per hour and has sucked out all the oxygen and replaced it with ungodly heat and gases miles in front of the actual cloud. Everything living died instantly: plants, animals, and people, all gone.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Very serious, Cynthia, and that’s just the beginning. As the volcanic cloud pushes its way east it will bring with it ash and gases. An eruption of this magnitude puts tons of steam, hydrogen chloride, hydrogen fluoride, sulfur dioxide, and pulverized rock and pumice ten to twenty miles up into the air… and then it comes down. It comes down as acid rain, dust, and those pulverized fine shards of rock falling that look like ash, will be like breathing glass.”

  The anchor paled.

  “We haven’t experienced anything like this before, so I’m going out on a limb here and say that it would be best for everyone to stay indoors for the duration… or risk dying.”

  The screen went blank, and then came back on with a series of commercials.

  Trevor and Christine sat there, stunned speechless, holding hands.

  “What are we going to do?” Trevor said. “You keep saying this Matt is usually right about the weather.”

  “Maybe we should wait until an official announcement. We could be worrying for nothing,” Christine replied.

  “Or we could spend the time getting ready for this ash cloud,” Trevor said.

  ***

  Trevor paced in front of the television.

  “Christine, what if that meteorologist is right? Even though none of the other newscasters are talking about the ash cloud being dangerous, what if it is? What if the government is lying to us to keep the public from panicking? Or what if the government doesn’t know or believe we’re all in danger?”

  “That’s a lot of ‘what-if’s’, babe,” she replied, not wanting to believe the worst case herself. What good would it do the government to intentionally lie to them?

  “Think about this what-if: What if that cloud is dangerous, and we do nothing? We could be stuck here in the house for a couple of weeks, with no food - and no dog food. What then? Do we venture out and perhaps risk dying? Do we really want to face that possibility?”

  “You’re scaring me Trevor,” Christine said nervously.

  “Good!” He took her hands and pulled her up into a hug. “Let’s take the SUV and the Cruiser to the Main Street store and load up whatever we think we might need. Oh, and there are no free giveaways this time! This time it’s for us.”

  ***

  The ash cloud started pushing its way eastward, black clouds following black clouds, stretching out north to south, claiming the sky. The new volcano continued to spew more heated and pulverized rock into the upper atmosphere, adding days and weeks to the coming bleakness.

  ***

  Marion came over later that same day to work in the garden and noticed all the stacked boxes of food when she went to the garage for a hoe.

  “My goodness, what are you two doing?” she asked.

  “Didn’t you see the reports about the Yellowstone volcano?” Christine asked her. “That was the rumbling we felt yesterday. The government says it won’t be a problem, and I’m doubtful we need to do all this, however, Trevor thinks we should,” Christine huffed, glancing sideways at Trevor.

  “What does that volcano’s ash have to do with us?”

  Marty pulled up in his scout car, hopped out, and hurried over to the trio.

  “I see you’re putting in some supplies. Good. We need to do some shopping too,” Marty said.

  “Marty, do you really believe that ash cloud is going to come here?” Marion asked.

  “Sweetheart, I get reports most never see, and yes, it’s coming.” He swiped his hands over his face. “The official government stand is we will all be fine, that there is nothing to worry about. However, law enforcement is being readied for worse, much worse. And so is the military and so are the hospitals and… the coroner’s office.” The nervous police chief turned to his friends. “Can Marion stay with you two during this?”

  “Of course, Marty, and you should too. From what I read on the internet, there will be days when no one can go anywhere. There will be nothing for you to do until it passes. Even after that it will still be dangerous to be outside, unless you have a respirator,” Trevor explained, trying to ignore Christine’s scowl.

  “I know, and I’m being issued one,” Marty said. “If you really don’t mind, I’d like to be here during my off hours, however few those might be.”

  “Of course, and we’ll be glad to have both of you,” Christine added. “You can have the lower level to yourselves.”

  “Since no one knows how soon this might start, I think maybe Marion and I should go home and pack a few things, right dear?” Marty looked at his now frightened wife, who nodded. “When we come back, we will help you move whatever else you need to bring over from the store.”

  ***

  “I’m even more scared now, Trevor,” Christine admitted.

  He folded her into his comforting arms. “We are going to get through this. Knowing there is something we can do, and then doing it, is more than half the battle. Remember, it’s better to have
something and not need it, than need it and not have it. Come on, there’s still some things at the store to bring here, especially now that there will be more of us.”

  ***

  “Marty, Christine wants me to check on Janis,” Trevor said. “You want to come along?” “

  Yes, knowing she’s had Max over to do things, I’m interested in how he’s behaving.”

  “What’s he been doing?”

  “Things like yard work mostly,” Marty replied.

  ***

  As they pulled up to the house Janis’ foster parents had left her, they both noticed how neat her yard looked now.

  “Oh, yes,” Janis gushed, “Max has been doing lots of chores for me. He’s really nice, and… he’s cute!” She giggled.

  This alarmed Marty, until he remembered that even though Janis was twenty-six, mentally she was still fifteen mentally, and that might be a normal reaction from a teenager. He told himself he needed to explain things to Max.

  “How are your supplies, Janis?” Trevor asked. “You do know about this ash cloud coming, right?”

  “Yes, I know all about it. Seth has made sure of that. Dr. Adams stopped by last week with my new debit card and said I had plenty of money now if I wanted to go shopping. So I did.” She grinned. “Seth took me to the super-store in Indianapolis and we did lots of grocery shopping! I was nervous going into the big city, but I needed a lot of things that I can’t get here.”