“Where?” Jesse asked again.
“She’s busy,” Darius said. “I’ll tell her you stopped by.” He started to close the door.
Jesse held out his hand, stopping it. “You know I’ve been patient. I’ve been put in jail, waited until she got back, waited until her head healed and this flu. But if she’s well enough to serve me with fucking divorce . . .”
“Hey!” Darius blasted. “Watch your mouth! And Bret didn’t get those together, I did. She only signed them. So if you’ll excuse us.”
“Why are you getting her divorce papers?”
“None of your goddamn business.” Darius said. “Now, I told you I’d let her know you stopped by.”
“I want in the house. No one’s ever there. The locks are changed.”
“No one lives there, Jess. They moved in here. The house is for sale, or did you miss the big sign on the front lawn?”
Jesse growled. “I want my tools and I want in that house.”
“Well, go to the house. But there’re no tools there.”
“What?” Jesse asked, head tilted.
“There’re no tools there. I emptied that house last week.”
“Where are my tools?”
Darius shrugged. “Gone. Sold, I think. Yeah. She sold them. Fifty bucks.” He widened his eyes. “Sorry.”
Darius saw it, the red in Jesse’s neck, the heaving of his shoulders and the heavy breath that preceded the second growl. He stepped back when he saw Jesse charge forward.
There were two sounds that emanated immediately upon Jesse’s storming entrance into Colin’s house.
Thud and pop.
The first occurred when Darius hooked his own leg into Jesse’s, stumbling the big man and careening him face forward to the floor. That was the thud.
The second came when, with a quick jolt and a snap of his free leg, Darius dislocated Jesse’s knee.
Colin cringed.
“Mom!” Andi cried out.
Jesse screamed in pain and Kyomi rushed in.
“No. No.” She bent down to Jesse. “You bwoke his weg.”
Darius rolled his eyes. “I didn’t bweak his weg. I popped his joint. Excuse me.” He walked to the stairs. “Colin, call the police.”
Colin showed him the open phone and winked. “I’m already on it. Where are you going?”
“To tell her she can stop hiding.” Darius ascended the stairs.
***
“You didn’t help much,” Chuck pulled out his chair in the dining room. Seated at the table already were Colin, Darius, and Bruce. “Shoot.” He stopped. “I need a drink.” He walked over to the bar in the dining room. “Colin, may I?”
“Be my guest,” Colin said.
“Anyhow,” Chuck continued. “You didn’t make matters any better for her. Jesse will just heal and come back.”
“Ask me if I care,” Darius said. “Let him come back.”
“Nice flowers,” Chuck indicated the arrangement as he took his seat.
“Winslow sent those for Bret,” Colin said. “Speaking of which, where is she?”
“She said she had to go to the store,” Darius answered. “I offered to drive her, but she wanted to go alone. She’s been gone a while now.”
“I hope she’s okay.” Colin interjected. “She still seems a bit off.”
Chuck fluttered his lips. “And she’s gonna lose her job.”
“Do . . . do you ever have anything positive to say?” Colin asked. “I’m wondering.”
“Not really,” Chuck replied. “And not often if I do.”
Bruce smiled and shook his head. ‘I have known Chuck for a few years. Never heard him say too much nice at all.”
“How’s this?” Chuck asked. “I think you’re a nice guy, Bruce.”
“Thanks, Chuck.” Bruce nodded.
“Why don’t we start?” Colin suggested. “I’m sure Bret won’t mind.”
“Sorry!” Bret called from the kitchen. The sound of the patio doors shutting was heard and she emerged into the dining room. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be gone so long. I didn’t miss anything, did I?”
Colin shook his head. “Just Chuck being miserable.”
“What else is new?” She walked to behind Chuck and gave him a hug.
“How are you feeling?” Chuck asked.
“Good. Good.” Bret answered and walked to the chair Darius pulled out for her.
“Thanks,” Bret sat down.
Colin asked, “Want something to drink?”
“No, I got my latte,” she held up her cup, “which I really shouldn’t be drinking.”
“Why’s that?” Colin asked.
Bret stumbled. “I . . . um . . . I’m addicted and with the world ending soon, I should break that addiction.”
“Ah, yes.” Colin pulled forth a notepad. “Okay. Let’s begin. I figured let’s perfect the list then we will find the individuals to match the job areas we want filled.”
Bret leaned into Darius and whispered. “I have to talk to you.”
“About what?” Darius whispered back.
“Just about something serious.”
“You wanna talk now?”
“Later. But make time.”
“Absolutely, just let me . . .”
Colin cleared his throat loudly. “Something you want to share?”
Bret shook her head “No, we’re good. Sorry.”
“As I was saying,” Colin continued. “We need to perfect the list. What professions we are looking to invite. What percentage. I am sure we all have to tweak our own private lists of who we want to come into the shelter. We have the obvious like doctors, farmers, teachers . . . but we need to tweak. We need to think about what professions would be needed to make civilization run, just not the obvious. We’re good with our supplies. Although I am certain, that when we get our invitees and experts together that they will look at our supply list and add to it. That’s okay; hopefully, we’ll be able to get the resources before it’s too late. Yes, Bret.”
Bret lowered her hand. “Can we have a gynecologist?”
“We went through this.” Colin said.
“No, we didn’t.”
“Yes, we did. When you were in . . .”
Darius cleared his throat. “She doesn’t remember that time. And we did go through it, Bret. We opted against it.”
“Why? We need one for the women and for any future babies that are born. We need a doctor to specialize in women. They will be our precious commodity.”
“But any doctor will do,” Darius said. “I hate having this argument again.”
“No, not any doctor will do and I don’t recall having this argument,” Bret said.
“This is ridiculous,” Darius saw her mouth open. “And don’t give me that line, are you a woman.”
Bret’s mouth closed. “How did you know I was going to say that?”
“You said it before.”
“Well how did the argument end before?” Bret asked.
“We had sex,” Darius replied.
Chuck coughed.
Bruce laughed. “Man, you guys are killing me with this tale you keep telling Bret.” He nudged Bret.
Bret grabbed Chuck’s drink and downed it. “One won’t hurt.” She handed it back.
Chuck looked at his glass. “It’s a joke, Bret. Stop buying it.”
Bret nodded.
“Can we continue?” Colin asked. “Anyhow, let’s hold off on the gynecologist argument for now. Back to this. I want to compile a list. The after we get the professions we need, then we can find the people. I don’t want to invite a single person until things have progressed to the point that the invitees will have no problem believing our plan and wanting to join.”
Bruce asked. “Are we sure things are going to happen? It’s been quiet.”
“That’s what I said,” Bret spoke. “Too quiet.”
“Exactly,” Colin said. “And that’s what worries me. Something will happen, something big and soon. And when it does, word is goi
ng to get out and watch all hell break loose.”
“What kind of event?” Chuck asked.
“Big,” Darius answered. “I don’t know what kind. But it will be big.”
“Big enough to make people stop and see that the world’s in trouble?” Chuck asked, and then sat back in his chair. “I can’t fathom what kind of event that would be.”
At that moment Andi rushed breathlessly into the room. “Hurry up. Hurry, you have to see the television.” She flew back out and no one hesitated in following.
“Holy shit,” was the first comment and that emerged from Colin. “Turn up the volume, Andi.”
Bret moved closer to Darius as they all huddled around the television.
“Are we at war?” Chuck asked.
“It’s Paris.” Ando pointed. “Look, the Eiffel tower. It’s warped.”
“Heat of about one thousand degrees Fahrenheit,” the newsman reported. “The area is still too hot to get a close shot. What you are seeing now is shot with a long zoom lens.”
They were at a loss over what had occurred. Paris in flames? It wasn’t ablaze, it was smoldering.
The newsman continued, “About fifty miles north of Paris and extends south on a path ten miles wide, two hundred miles long. Everything in its path is . . .” he was somber. “Gone. Just . . . gone. Hundreds of thousands dead, more missing. There is zero power from London to Singapore. This is not just a sad day for Europe but a devastating day for the world, the most unprecedented and the single biggest catastrophic occurrence in the history of modern man.”
Frustrated, Bret asked, “What happened?”
“You are seeing shots now of Paris, France,” the newscaster reported. “If you are just tuning in, About thirty minutes ago, a solar explosion, or as some call it, solar flare, breached through our atmosphere. Though scientists report having monitored the ‘X’ flare, they also state that it wasn’t expected to reach earth. It did. What’s next? What is next?”
After the newsman’s word, Darius looked at Colin. “Didn’t we see this coming?” Darius asked. “We didn’t see this action brewing? How did we miss it?”
“Other side of the sun, perhaps?” Colin shrugged. “I don’t know.” Colin shook his head and then faced Chuck. “You asked about what kind of event. This is it. This . . .s it. As far as the news breaking? Things are about to change.” He released the heavy breath he held and turned toward the television. “From this moment on, everything will be different.”
DARK AND GRAY
Reye Journal
July 24th
The aftermath of the Paris Flare will leave a vision of pain in the minds of all forever. The fires still smolder and experts estimate they will continue to burn for another six months. Six months? That, alone, could actually propel Europe into a mini ice age.
Thus far an estimated 600,000 are dead, close to a million missing. No doubt this incident is a wakeup call to the ecological and geographical fields.
In fact, an emergency scientific summit has been called in New York. This is planned to occur within the next week or so. The news not yet public was disclosed on the science boards by a couple of colleagues who were invited.
A cache of minds will try to determine what in God’s name has been occurring naturally to this planet. Many, I believe, already know. It just has to get to the phase of believing.
I have yet to be invited, not that I would on my own. So, with the help of Virginia and Darius we are preparing to take our findings to Dr. Jeffers, who will be attending. Hopefully when I find him and show him our research, he will review it with an open mind. Somehow I doubt that.
24. Learning Truths
July 25th
Martin Myers never planned his life to turn out the way it did. In his mind, even as a young boy, he watched his parents and envisioned for himself a similar future.
He’d be like his father, a professor at a local college, with a degree in some field of science, because Martin loved science, even as a kid.
He’d have a perfect wife, two kids, and a house with a fence. And maybe even a dog, because studies showed that an animal or pet in a house made for a happier family.
His wife didn’t have to be the picture of beauty externally, but internally she would be the supportive being every man needed.
That was his plan.
The wife and marriage topped of his list of things he wanted most. He saw the happiness in his parents’ marriage and wanted to emulate that in his own life.
But that was youthful thinking.
Everything started out that way. He met Janet in high school and married her his second year of college.
Money was tight, so they moved in with his parents while Martin went to school.
Janet and his mother had this fighting thing. Figuring it was typical mother-in law, daughter-in-law bullshit, he just tried to remain neutral, wanting not to disturb the balance of relationship with either woman.
His mother warned Janet was no good, was up to something.
Yeah. Yeah.
Janet warned his mother was overbearing and jealous.
Yeah. Yeah.
His father said it was an estrogen imbalance in the household.
Bingo.
Then he found out his mother was right. The day before graduation, just as Martin was getting ready to move into the teaching phase of his life, Janet left him for someone else. Someone older.
Martin was crushed.
Degree in Molecular Biology in hand, Martin decided he was going to pursue another passion. Something that would make him study and concentrate only on school. He could get his personal life back on track, after he graduated, so he thought.
He found a drive for virology and planned to further his studies, possibly be a research doctor.
Two years into that with failing grades, at twenty-four years old, his parents were killed in a car accident and Martin had nothing.
An Army recruiter found him on a bridge one night readying to take his life.
Driving by the recruiter saw him, stopped, and hung out on the edge and talked to him.
The rest was history.
Life saved.
With a degree he was able to get into Officer’s Candidate School, and Martin focused from that moment on, on building a career.
At the age of forty-nine he received his first star as a general. One year later, he celebrated his fiftieth birthday on the banks of Thailand monitoring the Avian Flu situation.
Shared world knowledge of outbreaks is often minimal. Out of fear, many countries don’t release information about outbreaks. That’s why he was in the hotspot: To watch, to border control, to check reports of bird flu within the communities and investigate. If the report was viable, he would monitor and let the US government know.
Although many believed the world's end if delivered by plague would begin in Africa, Martin knew better; so did the World Health Organization.
The next pandemic, if any, would without a doubt begin on the heavily populated continent of Asia.
Martin was there.
He loved his appointment, His first real Theater of Operation. He weeded through the rumor mills of the nearby villages and found many facts.
The women often brought him homemade treats, and often farmers brought him their daughters to examine for marriage.
He found it funny.
Unfortunately he was only there for eight months. In fact, he was watching the news on a live blog regarding the Paris flare when he heard the helicopter approach.
A military bird that he wasn’t expecting.
He wasn’t even in uniform. The uniform often intimidated the nearby villagers, and they trusted him more in civilian clothes.
In the distance the chopper stopped, and after peering out his office window, Martin watched the blades slow and the door open.
He closed out his Internet connection and walked from his office.
It was hot. Grabbing the handkerchief from his back pocket, he wiped the sw
eat from his neck and approached the bird, stopping at a distance.
The Captain of the bird opened the side door, and out stepped a three-star general.
Martin stood taller, his eyes shifting to the captain as he removed bags from the back of the helicopter.
The general approached.
It was General Hemming. Martin knew him from the Pentagon.
“General Hemming, sir.” Martin greeted him with a respectable salute.
After returning the salute, General Grant Hemming shook his hand. “Martin.”
“This is a surprise visit,” Martin said.
“It’s an emergency visit, Martin. I’m here to relieve you.”
“Sir?” Martin asked confused.
“I can’t tell you more than that. You just need to pack your gear and be on that bird in 30 minutes.”
“But, sir. There’s so much to show you . . . .”
“I’m sure your chain of command knows enough to inform me. Besides,” Grant winked. “You’re a phone call away. Good luck. You better start packing. But first, get me in contact with . . .” he pulled a notepad forth, “Sgt. Major Blackwell.”
Blackwell was his right-hand man. Martin nodded at the order. “Right away. This way.” He held out his hand. “Sir, do you at least know where I’m going?”
Grant did not, or at least was not at liberty to say.
The only way to find out was to pack up and go. And that was what Martin did.
***
Four satellite dishes were erected in the open field forty feet behind the barrack-style structure in Texas.
The heat had subsided some, and Virginia was hopeful the temperatures would continue to drop. The air conditioning worked below in the shelter, but she had no designs to stay down there the entire time.
An air conditioning unit for the ground floor was due to arrive in the afternoon. It couldn’t be soon enough. Amazing how she was able to get a local chain store to come to the property and erect a security fence around the perimeter in two days, but an air conditioning unit?
The wind blew her auburn hair, tossing the curls. Usually it wasn’t that curly, but it was too hot and she had little ambition to straighten it.
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