It had been a grueling thirty-six hours, far from the twenty-four he’d planned on, and John was exhausted from the drive, no sleep, lack of food, and the constant adrenaline. He plainly could not keep going without risking falling asleep at the wheel; he needed some rest. He pulled into a closed rest area outside of Mooresville, made sure the doors were locked, and reclined his seat for a short nap.
***
The tapping on the side window woke John hours later. The sun was not up yet and he squinted into the beam of the flashlight.
“Please unlock your doors, sir, and step out of the vehicle,” commanded the deputy, keeping the light in John’s eyes.
John sat up. “It’s a rest area and I was resting. Is that illegal?” he asked, opening the window enough to be heard.
“No, sir, not yet, though it soon may be. Please, step out,” the officer insisted and John reluctantly did as he was asked.
“Okay, I’m out. What do you want?” John asked politely.
“We are rounding up everyone on the highways and streets and getting them into shelters before the cloud hits,” the officer let him know. “Which should be soon.” The officer nervously glanced to the west.
“What if I don’t want to go to a shelter?”
“You have no choice, sir. We are now under martial law and you must comply.”
“Look, I’m not that far from home, which is where I’m trying to get. Why not just let me go, and that shelter will have one less mouth to feed?” John tried reasoning with the young man.
“Where is home?” he inquired skeptically.
“Greenwood.”
The officer looked down. “You have Michigan plates.”
“It’s my girlfriend’s car. Look, if you don’t believe me, call the chief of police in Greenwood, he can vouch for me,” John insisted.
“I served some time under him. What’s his name?” the officer inquired, testing John’s story.
“Marty, or rather Martin Mallory. He’s close friends with my daughter and her husband.”
“Not many get to call him Marty…” The officer contemplated the situation. “Wait here.” He sat in his patrol car and made a call. After a few minutes he returned to where John was munching on a hard-boiled egg.
“Chief Mallory confirms your story,” he said, eying the eggs. John handed him two. “You can go. Stay on 144. I’ll call ahead so you’re not stopped. Don’t stop anywhere or you will be detained. And a word of advice, Mr. Tiggs, do not try going into any of the larger cities. Martial law there is very strict because of all the rioting and looting going on.”
John dumped the last two gallons of gas into the tank and put the empty red container back in the hatch. He mentally calculated that he would have just enough gas to get to Christine’s.
He looked to the west with the morning sun now warming his back. The dark sky crept forward as he watched, and he prayed he could beat the cloud to Christine.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
The clouds gathered overhead, stretching as far as the eye could see in all directions. The massive amount of ash held within those clouds grew denser by the hour as the easternmost edge was slowed in its travel by the Blue Ridge and Smoky Mountains; slowed but not stopped. As the ash thickened, its weight, filled with debris of lava, splintered rocks, and all it claimed in the horrific explosion that set it free, started to fall.
***
“Christine, Marion! Come and look,” Trevor called out.
Christine watched out the large picture window at the falling ash. “It’s pretty in a weird way. It looks like dirty snow. Do you really think it’s as dangerous as some think?”
“I really don’t know, babe. I don’t want to take a chance though. I’m sure Marty will update us when he comes in tonight.” Trevor knew he wasn’t being reassuring, but he was trying to be as honest as he could be without scaring the two women.
“I’m really pragmatic about most things,” Marion said, “I will have to admit, though, this has me torn inside. I can understand what happened; we can now see the results. Still… it’s so unreal to me.” She paused for a long moment. “If you don’t mind, I’m going downstairs and knit for a while. I just don’t want to think about this right now.”
Trevor draped his arm around Christine for a comforting hug And they continued to watch the ash falling and swirling in the wind until Holly nudged Trevor’s hand and whined.
“Oh, crap!” he exclaimed. “In all our preparations I forgot completely about Holly! We can’t let her outside in this to do her business!”
“What if we put a bunch of newspapers down in the garage for her?” Christine suggested.
“That might help temporarily until we come up with something better. Cats are much easier to care for, all they need is a litter box,” Trevor lamented.
In the garage, Trevor spread out some old newspapers. Holly seemed to know what they were for and squatted, looking embarrassed.
“You’re a good girl, Holly. I’m going to figure out something for you.” Trevor retrieved a face mask to keep the ash out of his lungs, and a pair of swimming goggles to keep it out of his eyes, and then he backed the cruiser out of the garage. With more room now, he set to work.
Half an hour later, Christine found him still in the garage.
“What on earth are you doing?” she asked, looking at the lumber on the floor. It was now a square, with a plastic liner and Trevor was shoveling dirt into it.
“I’m building Holly a litter box,” he replied with a grin. “I need to open this door once again for more dirt, so you should go back inside. When I’m done, I’ll let you and Holly know.”
Once completed, Trevor removed his mask and smiled at his handiwork. Two 2x4’s cut in half and nailed together provided a small but adequate four foot by four foot area. He had stapled an old tarp to the inside to protect the concrete floor and then he filled it with a couple inches of dirt, topping it with a few clumps of grass.
“Where are my girls?” Trevor called out from the kitchen door. Soon, they were admiring Trevor’s contraption. Holly sniffed around it, stepped onto the dirt, and squatted again. She stepped off, wagged her tail, and licked Trevor’s hand.
“I swear she knows you built that for her,” Christine said. “She’s really smart.”
***
John parked the Subaru beside the PT Cruiser in the driveway of Christine’s house. The Subaru had been sputtering for the last couple of miles, but he didn’t dare stop to cover the air intake with the pantyhose Allexa gave him. He was dubious that it would work anyway.
He stepped out of the car after putting on the face mask Allex had given him, very glad to have it. Ash came cascading down on him from an overhanging branch that had been overloaded with the heavy gray flakes. He tried the person-door on the garage, found it locked, and smiled under the mask.
After rapping hard on the back door, John could see Trevor through the window, pointing to the garage. He nodded in understanding.
Trevor unlocked the door, and after giving himself a quick shake, John scurried into the building and removed his mask.
“John! What are you doing here?” Trevor asked with concern.
“I’ve come to help Christine through this ash fall event,” John said, now questioning his own motives. “She is so naïve and really believes in the government, and that they will protect her.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve been working with her on that.” Trevor sighed. “John, I appreciate this, and I’m sure she will be glad to see you, but she has a husband now,” Trevor reminded him, “and I will never let any harm come to her.”
“Perhaps I’ve made a mistake in coming.” John wiped his hands across his bald head, pushing his ever present cap off while he looked around. He spotted the stacks of canned goods and cases of water. “You’ve been stocking up on food I see. That’s good. Where did you get that much on such short notice?”
“You forget I own a couple of convenience stores,” Trevor answered calmly. “C
ome on in, John. You can’t go back out there now. I’m surprised you even made it here.”
***
“Daddy!” Christine hugged John, and then backed away. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Michigan with Allexa.”
“I was, baby girl, I was. When Yellowstone blew, Allex knew what was going to happen. She warned everyone and then went into a non-stop get-ready-mode. I’ve never seen such frantic yet organized activity. Even though she had plenty of food and supplies for all of us, she pushed for us to do more and to ready the houses. Her sons followed her lead because they believe and trust her. Her. Not the government talking heads. That’s when I realized what an injustice I’ve done with you, Christine.”
“What do you mean, Daddy?” she asked quietly.
“I’ve actually encouraged you to believe and to trust authority figures; that they always knew best and would be the ones you could turn to for help. I was wrong, and this time I was wrong enough that it could have cost your life, and I couldn’t let that happen. What I didn’t take into account is that this remarkable husband of yours is doing what I failed to do. He’s educating you about the real world. I came here to save you, but he already has.”
Christine slipped her arm through Trevor’s and smiled. “Yes, he has.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
“Ah, I see you made it here, John,” Marty said.
Christine gawked at him. “You knew he was coming?”
“A few hours ago I got a call from a former officer of mine. He had John stopped at a rest area and was going to take him to one of the shelter centers when John said he knew me and I could vouch for him. I never thought I would be the focus of name-dropping!” he chuckled. “Glad you got here okay, John. We can always use the extra security.”
“Do you really think we’ll need more security, Marty?” Trevor asked.
“Yes I do. One of the reasons I stopped here, other than to get a bite to eat, was to let you know what I’ve been hearing on the police channels.” He finished off his slice of bread before continuing. “The riots in Indianapolis have gotten worse and have spread. That’s the good news. The bad news is people are dropping everywhere. They are on the hunt for food and are roaming the streets without breathing protection, not even a handkerchief over their noses. It doesn’t take long for them to succumb. Some say it’s the poison gases from the explosions, some think it’s the ash itself. The officials aren’t saying either way.”
“If that many are dying, how are they rioting?” Marion asked.
“There’s the rub. There are whole segments of people who have taken precautions and are out and about unopposed. They are looting and burning the stores that have been abandoned, and they’re mugging those that are dying in the streets. Mugging isn’t the right word, because many of these people are already dead.” Marty paused for a long moment. “Since there isn’t much food for them to find in the city, these mobs are branching out and hitting the smaller communities that are even less protected – like us. So yes, we can’t have too much security. Oh, and there have also been reports of the usual ruses being employed.”
“What are the usual ruses?” Christine asked, confused.
“Some are using children to knock on your door asking for food or help, and as soon as you open the door, an adult jumps out from the side and forces their way in. Similarly, some have a recording of a baby crying tucked into a bundle of blankets that is left on the steps, and when the door is opened, they attack. So don’t fall for any of that,” Marty cautioned.
Christine sat there, stunned.
“I’m surprised that still works,” John said.
“There’s a whole new generation that have never been exposed to that kind of deception, John,” Marty said. “Thankfully, there are us older folks to guide them”
“Any word on how much longer this cloud will last?” Trevor asked.
Marty leaned back in his chair. As he gazed at the expectant faces of his friends, he chose his words carefully. “From the limited information that I’ve been getting, and no, they aren’t giving even law enforcement the full story, the ash cloud will be with us in varying stages for quite a while, maybe even years.”
“Years??” the three said together.
Only John was not surprised, since he already knew this. “What I recall from the video I watched before I came down, the first stage is what we are in now. Those particles we don’t want to breathe are heavier than the rest of the ash, and should be the first to fall. They will be gone in a week or two.”
“That’s right, however, after that moves past, the higher cloud will circle the Earth until it dissipates, and that could take a year or two,” Marty picked up. “I wish Doc were here to explain it better.”
“In the meantime, it’s going to get cold,” John continued.
“What do you mean cold?” Marion exclaimed. “It’s July, it’s always warm in July.”
“The ash is going to block the sun,” John stated flatly. “And not just here, not just us, everywhere.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
“I’m still hungry!” Max proclaimed after their meager lunch of sharing one can of watered down soup. The anger was obvious in his young voice.
“We all are,” Seth said, trying to sooth the teenager. Never having children of his own, Seth was having some difficulties dealing with the two teens in his care.
“I thought you said we had enough food to last us as long as we needed!” Max accused Janis. “It hasn’t been two weeks since we’ve been cooped up in here and now we’re almost out of food? That really sucks.” He turned away and stomped down the stairs to the basement.
“We should have listened to Trevor when he told us to get more food,” Seth said softly.
“Oh, so now it’s my fault?” Janis yelled, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
“In a way, yes it is, Janis. He told us we should have more, and I was ready to take us shopping again, but you insisted we had enough!” The old preacher was tired of being everyone’s scapegoat.
“But the government said this would be over within a few days!” she wailed. “We had enough for a few days, honest we did!” The tears now cascaded down her thin cheeks. “We shouldn’t have eaten so much right away.”
“That’s true enough. We could have done a better job of rationing,” he agreed. “What’s done is done. Now what are we going to do?”
“I just wanted everyone to be happy,” Janis sobbed, ignoring his question.
***
Max paced the short length of the basement, his anger building along with his blood pressure. Even at seventeen, he had severe mood swings that also brought on bouts of very high blood pressure, something he inherited from his father, that and anger issues. Unknown to Max and his doctors, a blow to the head when he was a child had left him with an aneurism deep inside his brain, another legacy from his absentee father.
Max felt something shift inside of him. That aneurism had just burst. A light of such brilliance flooded his vision that he had to blink several times to see again. The fear that initially accompanied the flash of light subsided instantly to a darkness of hatred – for everyone and everything. The first thing that he set eyes on received an uncoiled onslaught of violence: Dot.
***
Max wiped the bloody knife on the blanket the puppy had been sleeping on. His breathing was harsh and shallow, yet at the same time he felt a satisfaction from his violence that was nothing short of orgasmic.
He heard Seth open the door at the top of the stairs and grinned. The blackness surged upward again and he hid behind the bottom door.
The cloying stench of blood assailed Seth as soon as he stepped into the gloom.
“Dot? Where are you girl?” he called out to his dog, stepping cautiously toward the pile of blankets where he had last seen his puppy.
Max swung the large knife downward with fatal accuracy, burying it deep in Seth’s neck, deftly severing the carotid artery. Seth went down without a so
und.
“Well, that’s two less mouths to feed now,” he said joyously. He looked down at his bloody clothes and decided to change, rationally thinking it would upset Janis.
The adrenaline rush from the kills jumped his metabolism into high and he went up to the kitchen to find something to eat.
Janis was upset and confused by the confrontation with Seth and had gone to her room to rest. Her fifteen-year-old mind didn’t know how to deal with such adult feelings so it shut down.
***
Max found a box of crackers hidden in the back of a cupboard, and happily sat at the kitchen table devouring them.
“What are you doing?” Janis yelled when she walked into the room.
“What does it look like? I’m eating, you stupid bitch,” Max said, the anger rising again.
“Those aren’t yours! I was saving them!” she screamed.
“Shut up!” he said and slapped her across the face.
“You hit me… you hit me… you hit me…” she said over and over.
“I said SHUT UP!” The darkness now consumed Max. He clenched his fist and struck Janis hard enough to loosen a few teeth, but that didn’t matter. As she fell backward from the blow she struck the marble countertop and slumped to the floor, her neck broken.
Max sat quietly at the table finishing off the box of crackers with the last of the milk, calmly ignoring Janis’ lifeless body. In a daze, he sat there, not moving, for almost an hour. He blinked and saw Janis on the floor. Confused, he picked her up and laid her on the couch as though she were sleeping and went back to his basement room for a nap.
The Journal: Fault Line (The Journal Book 5) Page 22
