Mark and Eric were kneeling beside something in the dust covered grass. A body. I came to a halt a few yards away, and walked up slowly to not startle my agitated son.
Mark looked up first, and stood. He stopped me short of the scene.
“Leave him be for a few moments, Allex,” Mark suggested. “When we got here, this guy was half out of the truck, thrown out by the impact is my guess. I saw too many of these kind of accidents down in Saginaw.” That cloud passed over his eyes again, and was quickly gone. “He was struggling for breath. The ash is my guess, so either way he was already dead. I asked Eric to end the suffering.” He looked over where Eric was still kneeling.
“He’s an interesting young man, Allex. In anger or protecting his loved ones, he has no remorse, but euthanizing another human being, he couldn’t do it. Once I told him I believed there was no malice behind the near accident and that it was quite likely the old man was in panic not being able to breathe and that he probably didn’t even see Emi, Eric’s whole demeanor changed.”
I came up behind my son and laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Come, Eric. This gas is about to go.”
The three of us quickly lifted the crash victim into the bed of the pickup truck. Mark removed the elderly man’s wallet from his denim jacket, while Eric said a prayer.
We were halfway back down the silt covered asphalt road when the truck exploded into a funeral pyre.
* * *
“Will this tragedy ever end, Mark?” I slumped in the wooden chair, a finger of rum left in my glass. The bagged blocks of ice I had made while the power was on were almost gone, but there was still enough to chip for cooling a drink. “It seems that every time things start to even out a bit, something else happens to throw us off balance again.”
“It does seem to be never ending, doesn’t it,” he replied. “How are you holding up, Allex?”
I gazed at the man across the table from me. “I’m getting weary, doctor. How about you?”
“I’ve had more practice,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I will say I’m eating better than I have in the past. What was it you fixed for us? It was wonderful,” he said, deftly changing the subject.
“I call it mock chicken parmesan. Just a jar of home canned chicken reheated in my own spaghetti sauce, with a few extra herbs and then topped with parmesan cheese. I used pasta this time. If you prefer rice, we can have that next time.”
“I think it was perfect just the way it is, and thank you.” This time the smile did reach his eyes, just as the power flickered on.
“Power wasn’t due back on until midnight! Maybe we can catch some news.” I left the dishes on the table and turned on the TV. We could have the TV on with the generator any time we wanted, however, the cable satellite, as well as the cellphone tower, needed power too and that had to come from the grid.
“… and on the national front, the ash cloud from the new volcano, Mount Yellowstone, is slowly moving out across the Atlantic Ocean, much to the relief of everyone affected. Officials are saying that by listening to the staff at FEMA and the CDC, and following the instructions of your local emergency services, the injury total has been kept to a minimum,” the young blonde newscaster said with a confident smile. The camera shook, distorting the live broadcast, and a new face appeared.
“Don’t believe this political media crap! It’s all lies! My name is Dustin Abernathy, and I’m a doctor at the Montrose Medical Clinic. I lived in Cleveland, Ohio when the cloud hit and I watched thousands die in just a few hours! Tens of thousands! You have to know the truth! People are still dying and they’re dying because our government is lying to them about how to deal with this Drifting Death! Stay inside, everyone, don’t breathe the ash cloud! It will kill you by slicing your lungs to shreds! Protect yourself!” In the background, the blonde reporter was being restrained by a man with a surgical mask covering half of his face. A shot was heard over the screams of that young newscaster, and Dr. Abernathy slumped across the polished glass podium. The screen went blank.
We sat there momentarily stunned. Mark grabbed the remote and changed channels. A jittery camera shot rolled across the TV as we watched mobs of people running in the streets, only to be indiscriminately mowed down by automatic gunfire from the gas-masked swat teams billeted behind armor plating. Buildings were burning behind and around the mob, but also behind the shooters, the raging fires being a great equalizer. The camera panned the crowd again in time to catch the explosion from a building a block behind the protesters. The concussion was so great that everyone stumbled or fell. The only narration came from the screams of the people and the sound of rapid gun fire. This screen went blank too.
“My God, what is happening out there?” Mark whispered.
CHAPTER 31
July 23
“General Marlow,” a strange, gruff voice answered.
“I’m looking for Tom White. Did I dial the wrong number?” I asked, knowing I hadn’t. My suspicious nature was suddenly alive and screaming.
“Mr. White has been relieved of command. Who is this?” General Marlow asked impatiently.
Relieved of command by the military?? What was going on in Marquette? Something was very, very wrong.
“Oh, the military has come to help? That’s wonderful!” I lied, trying to buy some time while I thought. Mark gave me the strangest look and I put my finger to my lips to shush him.
“What is your location, ma’am? I’ll send someone to assist you.” The general’s voice was now soft and patronizing, and it sent all of my alarms blaring.
“Great! I’m alone in a house on Bluff Street,” I said, lying again. “Can you hear me??” All the while I was randomly punching numbers on the cell phone to create interference. I disconnected quickly, hoping there wasn’t time for a trace.
“What was that all about, Allex?” Mark asked.
“Tom has been relieved of command as Emergency Manager… by the military,” I told him. “They wanted my location to ‘assist’ us. This is very wrong and very bad.”
I hadn’t talked to Anna since the video presentation. I could only hope that she was hunkering down. I speed dialed her home, relieved when she answered on the first ring.
“Anna, we have a problem.”
“What now, Allexa?” she asked wearily.
“The military has taken over the emergency management office in Marquette. Tom has been ‘relieved of command’ by a General Marlow,” I told her, repeating what I relayed to Mark. “I really, really believe it’s in our best interest to sever all communications with the county, Anna. Can you get to the office and put a repeating message on the automatic voicemail, something to the effect that most here have died and the rest are relocating to Marquette? That should lead them away from us.”
“Normally I would say I think you’re overreacting, but you haven’t led us wrong yet.” She sighed and said something to someone in the background. “I’ll get to the office immediately. Oh, and Allexa, Pete told me what your family did for the town. Thank you.” She hung up.
Mark was looking more and more confused, and just a touch worried.
“A military takeover is likely to mean rounding up the remaining citizens for relocating into detention camps, confiscating all food supplies for redistribution, disarming everyone and separating families,” I told him bluntly. “I certainly don’t want that to happen with us here, do you?”
“No, of course not, Allex, and from what we saw on the TV last night, I think that could be what would happen,” Mark agreed.
“It also means that with Tom gone I no longer have access to information. We are truly on our own,” I said, staring out the window at the continuing ash-fall, though it did seem to be less than yesterday.
“What do we do now?”
“We go on with our lives,” I said with a sad smile. “I think we will be ignored for now.”
At least I hoped so.
* * *
As prearranged, Eric an
d Jason arrived at nine-thirty to start the butchering of the deer they had shot a few days ago and that was still hanging in the barn.
“The good news is with the power back on, we won’t be under such a crunch,” I told them. “Still, we should work as quickly as possible, just in case the power goes out again. I need you two to cut the deer up into quarters. Bring one in, and put the other three in the refrigerator out there. Mark and I will bring in the supplies.”
I handed Eric an old sheet to cover the meat from the ash while they were bringing it in. It was still coming down steadily, just not as thick as before. I was taking that as a good sign that it might be starting to let up.
“What supplies do we need, Allex? And where are they?” Mark asked. John knew where everything was and I was feeling just a touch impatient that Mark didn’t. But then, he wasn’t John. John left. John always left, and this time he wasn’t coming back.
“Everything is out in the small brown shed,” I answered, reminding myself that he was trying, really trying, to help. “We’ll need jars, seals, canners and cooking kettles. I’ll hand them out to you since I know what to look for. I think this will be a good time to use the second pantry entrance. There’s too much to walk all the way around to the greenhouse.”
* * *
The big double stacker pressure canner sat on the stove. I filled one of the cooking kettles with water and set it to heat for cooking the bones and the scrap. Mark and I pushed the work island and the utility table together and draped it with a sheet of plastic I keep with the canning stuff. It’s easy to wash and sterilize. We set out cutting boards, knives and bowls.
“This looks like you’ve done this a time or two before, Allex,” Mark commented laughing.
“Once or twice, yeah,” I grinned back. “Once we get in a rhythm the work goes smoothly. When there’s enough cleaned meat for me to work with, the boys will continue to butcher and I’ll start canning.”
“What do you want me to do? I really do want to learn so I can help,” Mark said sincerely.
I was so accustomed to doing so much by myself it was hard to let the tasks go. I knew I must though.
“While they’re cutting the deer up, we need to start washing the jars, and this table will need to be wiped down with bleach. Take your pick.” Soon I was washing jars and Mark had the table sanitized. Then he offered to sharpen all the knives, while I fed the chickens and watered the plants out in the greenhouse, a daily chore.
The four of us worked steadily for hours, sometimes quietly, sometimes talking.
“So what brought you to Moose Creek, Dr. Mark?” Eric asked innocently as he sliced a large piece of red meat away from a bone.
Mark had been slicing meat for jerky with surgical precision. His hands stilled. I could see the battle going on inside him on what to say.
“I was an ER doctor down in Saginaw. It was work I loved. It was very gratifying to help so many. It became my whole world after my wife and son were killed in a car accident. That was many years ago that they died,” he paused, placing the slices in a bowl and took another large piece of meat. “When the quakes hit last fall and society started to crumble, I was even more needed. But it wasn’t the same, so I left. I just got in my car and started driving.”
“Why here? Why Moose Creek?”
“This is where I ran out of gas,” Mark chuckled, and he continued to cut, with a quick glance at me.
* * *
At six o’clock, just as we were cleaning up, having done two quarters, the FRS squawked.
“Jason, are you still at Mom’s?” Amanda’s voice came over the small radio.
“Yep, we’re just cleaning up now,” he answered, pushing the button to respond.
“I was wondering when you would be back for dinner.”
Jason looked at the three of us before answering his wife.
“You guys can go ahead. I can’t leave the canner, I have to finish,” I said to them.
“I’ll walk over with them and bring back our dinner. How’s that, Allex?” Mark offered washing his glove covered hands of the blood.
“I’ll set the jerky cuts to marinade overnight and you two can dry them in the smoke house tomorrow, okay?” I stated, filling another pint jar with pieces of meat. “I’ll see you two tomorrow morning. Get some rest, we’re only half done,” I reminded them wearily. I gave Mark a dozen eggs to deliver to Amanda.
* * *
Mark returned a half hour later just as I was emptying the canner and getting ready for the next double batch of venison.
“Eric insisted I sample his latest brew,” Mark said to explain his tardiness as he set the protective cloth bag on the counter. “Dinner is two beers and some kind of chicken casserole, for which Amanda apologized. I think she’s tired of casseroles.”
“I can see I’ll have to teach Emilee to make tortilla bread. That should give Amanda something new to work with!”
“You can make tortillas?” Mark asked in awe.
I nodded. “And tacos, English muffins, bagels and pita. If it’s bread-like, I can make it,” I boasted, suddenly feeling shy about my skills.
“How’s the canning coming?”
“Last batch for today is coming up to pressure. That will give us twenty-eight jars of meat, a good day of work. We should get the same tomorrow, plus all the soup stock and the jerky. This will give us a nice protein base. I won’t be able to can the soup for two more days. Once cooked it needs to cool so I can remove the floating tallow, and then remove the bones and dice up the meat. Only then will it be ready to can. It’s a long process,” I said. “I think having this extra food is worth the work.”
“What kind of flavoring do you use for the jerky?” He was very inquisitive tonight.
“The marinade is a blend of my own apple cider vinegar, soy sauce and teriyaki sauce, plus some water to thin it down enough to cover what’s in the bowl. In fact, let’s do that right now.” I got the gallon sized containers of soy and teriyaki out of the cold pantry.
I went to the greenhouse to retrieve sprouted garlic and some chives. Once chopped they were added to the three gallon marinating pail with the cup of soy sauce, half cup of teriyaki, and a half cup of vinegar. The meat was added in small batches to make sure it was well coated. I set it in the humming refrigerator for the night.
We finally sat down to enjoy Amanda’s chicken casserole and Eric’s beer. I was exhausted.
July 24
At nine-thirty Eric and Jason entered the barn and brought both remaining quarters of the deer back to the house to save the additional trip later. Mark and I were up early to get everything ready for another long day.
“Amanda made us pancakes for breakfast, Mom, so we’re not hungry. I sure could use another cup of coffee though,” Eric said, when I offered them some toast.
“She’s been digging around in the basement in Aunt Nancy’s food storage and found a sealed canning jar labeled pancake mix,” Jason said. “With some of Nancy’s jam smeared on top it was awesome!”
“Yeah, I think I ate too much,” Eric said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“I’m very glad Amanda is comfortable enough to go exploring,” I commented, pleased that she would take the initiative. “Nancy did a lot of canning, too. I’m surprised there’s much left.”
“Mom,” Jason gave me one of “those” looks. “We ate over here a lot last winter, in case you forgot.”
“You’re right,” I admitted. “It’s time to get to work and finish this up. Mark already re-sanitized the table and sharpened all the knives. I washed and stored the two cases of meat from yesterday and have more jars ready for today’s canning. Anything else?”
“Just one thing, Mom,” Eric added. “On our way here we noticed that the ash in the air is significantly less. Do you think it’s stopped?”
I gazed out the glass door into the yard. It was still covered in a thick blanket of gray and darker gray. The fence around the garden looked like a lacy web of clingy soot wit
h every crevice of the chicken wire packed full of ash and more ash. Trees were now bending under the weight of it, coating the now invisible tender green leaves. Some were bending so low they looked as though they were ready to snap; maybe they would. The ground was cloaked with more of the monotonous color. Everything, literally everything, was the same dull, muted, ugly gray, even the sky. But Eric was right, what was drifting in the air was noticeably less.
“It does look less, yes. I sure hope its stopping! Maybe because we’re on the northern edge it will stop sooner. I just don’t know, and now there’s no way to find out,” I said to my sons.
“What do you mean?” Jason questioned as he set a freshly washed hind quarter on the table and began dis-jointing it.
“I apologize for not telling you yesterday. When I called Tom White in Marquette, someone else answered the phone: a general. The military has moved in, and they’re rounding everyone up,” I cast my eyes down.
“What?” they both said.
“He thinks I was in the city, if he believed me that is.” I looked at the three men around me. “Moose Creek is too insignificant to matter, and I’m fairly certainly we will be left alone. To be on the safe side, Anna left a message on the township phone that should misdirect any interest.”
Eric had been listening intently.
“Mom, do you want me to contact Captain Andrews at Sawyer?” Eric said. “See if I can get more details?” He looked at Mark and said, “That’s the captain that I had contact with while waiting for my mom to come and vouch for us when we showed up unexpectedly last winter.”
The Journal: Ash Fall Page 25
