Sinagua Rising

by R. G. Andersen-Wyckoff

  “Fantastic,” said Carly and Mel, almost simultaneously.

  “Why don’t you boys build us a rock fire pit outside somewhere and we’ll have a campfire after dark?” Carly added.

  Tanner and Colby and the kids left to build the fire pit and collect dead wood from the mesa. Colby didn’t want to burn any of the lumber, no matter how small, until they had finished with their construction projects—you never knew when even a small piece might be just the right fit.

  ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

  When the ladies were finished hanging the temporary space dividers and the men were moving stack chairs from the Meeting Hall to the fire pit, Carly opened Chloe’s cage, holding and brushing her. Her eyes showed the fear she was feeling and, though she managed to purr with the affection Carly was showing her, she didn’t really relax. Carly laid her on the bed and removed the small litter box from Chloe’s cage. She decided to leave Chloe on the bed while she dumped the litter box in the latrine pit—a fitting place for it. When she came back Chloe had not left the bed. She refilled her food and water dispenser and then petted her some more. She knew that big changes would be coming in a couple of months as she would run out of litter and dried food for Chloe. But, in the meantime she’d do her best to keep things as routine and familiar as possible.

  “I know this is tough on you, pretty lady,” she whispered to Chloe, “and I know you’re scared by your new and unfamiliar surroundings, but all the people who love you are still here to take care of you. Somehow we’ll all get through this new adventure and develop a new normal and you’ll do just fine; you’ll see.” Carly always talked to Chloe that way and it seemed to soothe and settle the cat. She put a blanket over the top of the cage because she knew Chloe, like most cats, felt more secure when they were in a cave-like area, and she propped the cage door open. She put Chloe on the floor and the cat immediately went into her cage. Carly had set the litter box beside the cage to provide more room for her and had moved a familiar blanket inside for her to nestle in. “I hope you’ll stay put while I go to the campfire,” Carly again whispered to the cat. “I don’t want you to wander away and get lost, or worse, but it’s not fair to keep you caged up.”

  ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

  The fire pit was circular, about three feet in diameter. Colby had dug down about six inches and then lined the top of the pit with fair-sized volcanic rocks, so the total depth of the fire pit was about two feet.

  When Carly arrived, everyone else was already there, sitting on the cushioned stack chairs. She admired the fire pit thinking, what a work of art! That’s the nicest campfire pit I think I’ve ever seen. Colby doesn’t do anything less than first class.

  She was surprised to see that Jason and Philip each had guitars and Colby had his five-string banjo. She knew that Colby played banjo and guitar but hadn’t realized Jason had learned, as well. I shouldn’t be surprised that Philip plays, after all, he seems to have lots of talents we’re just learning about.

  The three of them were playing some tunes they knew and sounded pretty good together. In fact, they sounded very good. Tate had taken one of the plastic, five-gallon pails they used for washing, and was using it like a conga drum. Bud surprised everyone by getting two small pieces of 2x4 and using them like rhythm blocks.

  “We have our very own Duwa Family Band,” exclaimed Bishop. “Maybe we can nominate them for a spot on America’s Got Talent,” Celeste joined in.”

  “I think we’ll just have to be content with giving them a spot on Duwa’s Got Talent,” Jack said, chuckling. “It may be a while before the rest of the world catches up.”

  Michael appeared through the end door of the Meeting Hall with a big bag of marshmallows and a half-dozen roasting forks. “I found these forks with one of the barbecues we brought up from our homes and the marshmallows were in the food supplies. What’s a campfire without marshmallows for all the kids, big and little, to roast?”

  “Those forks were with my barbecue,” chimed in Travis. “I use them for roasting hot dogs, but they’ll do just fine for dual purpose, especially since we don’t have any hot dogs.”

  Michael got the youngest children set up with the forks and marshmallows and cautioned them to be careful not to burn them too badly, upon which Kiera’s almost immediately caught fire. Tara blew out the flame and helped Kiera hold it at the appropriate distance so the rest of the marshmallow could brown.

  The musicians began playing and soon everyone was joining in singing the old campfire favorites: Down by the Old Mill Stream, You Are My Sunshine, Tell Me Why, She’ll Be Coming Round the Mountain, Red River Valley, Michael Row Your Boat Ashore, Moonlight Bay, Me and My Gal, When You’re Smiling, Let Me Call You Sweetheart, and others, singing well into the night. This was the first time they had really let down and put the trauma of the CME and its aftermath behind them. They were a family; a community. They reveled in the camaraderie and all said silent prayers that the worst was behind them and there’d be many more celebrations.◘

  Chapter 20

  My Fellow Americans

  Once the marshmallows were gone, the embers of the fire were all that was left of the blaze, and the singing had pretty well petered out, they began to gather the stack chairs. Some headed toward the Meeting Hall and the children barely made it back to their cots before falling into an exhausted sleep.

  Jack, who, by his own admission, couldn’t even sing in the shower, had drifted away from the group earlier and set up his short wave radio on a table in the Meeting Hall. He had strung a length of the vinyl-coated wire from the radio and then attached a bared end to one of the aluminum support poles of the tent, making a pretty good antennae.

  As the group entered the Meeting Hall carrying the stack chairs, Jack was signaling for them to gather round as they were met by the unmistakable tones of the National Emergency Alert System followed by this announcement:

  “This is the National Emergency Alert System. This is not a test. I repeat, this is not a test,” said the announcer. Speaking now from the temporary White House, the President of the United States.”

  Everyone in the Hall looked at each other in anticipation and, following a couple of seconds of static, the unmistakable voice of the President said:

  “My fellow Americans. Yesterday, the United States, in fact, the entire world, suffered a solar event of cataclysmic proportions, the likes of which the world has not seen before in recorded history.”

  “No, shit,” murmured Bud.

  “I want to assure you that your government is still functioning, albeit at a much reduced level, and we will use every resource at our disposal to restore our strategic infrastructure to normalcy as quickly as humanly possible.”

  “We’re the government and we’re here to help,” Bud said cynically.

  “The electric grids of the United States and the world have been inextricably compromised by a solar storm of unprecedented proportions, of which we had little warning.”

  “That’s a bold-faced lie,” Travis said disgustedly. ”They had plenty of warning, enough to move their sorry asses to the underground shelters in Virginia, but they chose not to tell the American people because they were worried about panic. I wonder what they think of the panic and chaos we’re now experiencing because they didn’t have enough faith in our ability to hear the truth and deal with it.”

  “My senior advisors, and FEMA, have indicated that it will take some time to get our power grids up and running again.”

  “How about a couple of decades,” said Jack, “or more. It could take a hundred years to reestablish manufacturing and replace the transformers that were destroyed by the magnetic storm. Of course, he’s being advised by FEMA.”

  “Point taken,” said Travis.

  “In the meantime we will be forced to rely on generators to supply electricity for our critical needs. We have reserves of jet fuel, gasoline, and diesel fuel strategically located at major military installations across America to insure our safety and trust that stat
e and local governments will share their reserves with the populace.”

  “What a load of crap that is,” retorted Travis. “There are no state and local governments because they had insufficient advanced warning and all the government employees, civilian law enforcement, and National Guards left to join their families when the enormity of the event was first felt. First responders tried their best but, facing overwhelming odds, had to abandon their efforts and see to their families and loved ones. What he means is that the government has plenty of reserves to keep him, his family, his advisors, and at least part of the key military establishment taken care of.”

  “In order to conserve these strategic supplies we will keep our military on alert against any potential threat to our National security but will not send our personnel beyond their current assigned bases.”

  “In plain English,” offered Bishop, “I think he’s saying: don’t count on any help from the Federal government.”

  “We have heard reports of massive loss of life, particularly in our larger cities, lawlessness in the streets, and neighbor against neighbor for food and water. We encourage those of you living in our larger cities to evacuate as soon as possible and encourage others not to migrate to these cities. We cannot guarantee your safety in such circumstances.”

  “My god,” said Bud. “The government cannot guarantee our safety no matter where we are and now he’s telling everyone that can to get the hell out of Dodge and head up here to Tombstone. It’s a good thing we decided on our own to look out for ourselves and to relocate up here to Duwa. I think we can expect to see more than just the Scorpions moving through here looking for food, water, and sanctuary. We’d better keep a close look out and begin reducing our trips back into the Village—and we should never go unarmed.”

  “You know,” said Travis, “I never liked that guy before and I certainly don’t like him now, even if he was technically my boss.”

  “I encourage everyone to boil their water before using it and to share food, water, and shelter with their neighbors. Working together we will get through this, as we have other National tragedies.”

  “I wonder who he’s talking to,” said Bishop. “Most people won’t even hear this message. They certainly won’t take the time to boil water, if they even have it, and being altruistic with their sustenance will wear thin after the first couple of days as the more aggressive among us just start taking what they want.”

  “That’s for sure,” echoed Travis. “When we flew over Tucson and Phoenix the looters were already helping themselves to anything they wanted, whether or not it belonged to someone else. Anarchy is already the rule and only the strong—or the prepared—will survive. I’m with Bud, I think we’re liable to see groups, or gangs, of people heading our way from Prescott, Phoenix, and Flagstaff—and maybe even Sedona—and we’d better be prepared.”

  “In the near future, your government will begin building safe zones in every region of the country where you will be provided with food, water, and shelter, and where we will have enough electricity to meet the needs of that community, provided by generators using some of our strategic fuel reserves. Each of you, according to your abilities and skills, will be asked to contribute to the community needs. We will inform you of our progress on these safe zones via the National Emergency Alert System to which you are now listening.”

  “If that doesn’t sound downright appetizing,” said Jenny, who until now had kept silent, as had the other women present. “I contribute my skills and they dole out the food, water, and shelter as they see fit. That sounds a little like communism to me, doesn’t it? And, that’s all assuming they actually get these safe zones built and can get the word out to the great unwashed masses who will never have access to a short-wave radio. Of course, I guess we could watch it on the TV news or read it in the local newspaper,” she said with a cynical laugh.

  “We will periodically update you on the progress we are making or on other information of strategic importance to you via this E.A.S. system. I am informed that these broadcasts are picked up by the volunteer members of our system and run on continuous loop so if you miss the broadcast at one time you will be able to get it at another. I want to thank all those amateur radio operators who are communicating with us, feeding us local and regional reports, and for relaying information from your government to you.

  “In closing, let me say that I feel certain the American people will persevere; that this mighty nation will, as the legendary Phoenix, rise from the ashes, and we will take our rightful place as the leader of the free world. God bless you and Gold bless America. Goodnight.”

  “You know,” said Bud, “I’m not really worried about whether or not we regain our position as leader of the free world. I’m more worried that there’ll be a free world to lead.”

  “This has been a message from the President of the United States via the National Emergency Alert System which broadcasts on 4.125, 6.215, 8.291, 12.290, and 16.420 megahertz,” intoned the announcer. Within seconds, the E.A.S. tone again sounded and the message began replaying.

  “What a load of crap that was,” Travis said, reiterating his earlier assessment of the President’s message.

  “Well, yes and no,” responded Bishop. “Regardless of how we might individually feel about what he had to say, or our personal feelings about him, we learned some valuable information. First, we learned there is an operational E.A.S. system, at least for now, by which we might be able to glean helpful information.

  “Secondly, we learned that we need to be ready to watch out for, keep hidden from, and be ready to protect ourselves from, people who may head this way. I’m sure they’re not all bad but we need to be careful in how we assess that danger and be ready to meet force with force, if need be.

  “And, third, we learned there is a potential the government will build those so-called safe zones and, over time, may try to conscript everyone into them, as they did with the Native Americans they shipped to reservations and then systematically forgot. So, you see, we’re better for having heard the broadcast and I, for one, appreciate Jack having rigged up the radio and brought this broadcast to our attention. I think we’ll have to be sure to tune in every night or so just in case there are updates. So, thanks, Jack.”

  “There’s something else we learned,” said Jack. “We learned that this broadcast originated the day after the CME; that was a week ago and there’s been no update. We can assume that those who heard it and decided to leave the cities might show up in our neighborhood at any time, even if they’re walking. I’m not sure what to make of the fact there hasn’t been a update to that first broadcast.”

  “Maybe they just haven’t had anything to report,” suggested Bishop. “As I said before, I think we just need to keep checking each evening, when the reception is the best, and see what happens.”

  “You know,” said Travis with a broad smile, “I guess this means we won’t be getting our regular Social Security checks.”

  The group laughed at this and then he continued with a rather somber look on his face: “I guess this also means we won’t be getting a new president in 2016 because there’s no way to have an election. He now becomes president for life.”

  “That’s scary,” Mel replied. “And just when I thought we had a chance to turn things around in this country.”

  “You know,” said Travis, “we ought to set up a committee to be prepared to negotiate for Friendly Nation status when the Federal Government finally gets its act together. Maybe we can get some financial assistance. No, now that I’ve said it, I don’t like it. I think we need to keep our existence secret; keep a low profile and be self-sufficient. The less government interaction, the better.”

  “Hear, hear,” the group responded, and then all laughed.

  ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

  When the others had picked up chairs to return them to the Meeting Hall, Carly had slipped away to check on Chloe. She was in complete turmoil as to what to do about her precious cat. She c
ouldn’t keep her caged up all the time and yet she was worried that, if left to her own devices, she would wander away and some tragedy would befall her. By the time she got back to her tent she had made up her mind to allow Chloe to make her own decisions. Hopefully, with the new doorway and because the tent had a solid attached floor so Chloe would not likely get out, it would be okay and she could roam through the two tents as if she were at home back on Morningside Drive. They would continue to provide food, water, and a litter box for as long as they could and would always provide loving attention, as long as she was around.

  When Carly entered their bedroom space she found Chloe lying on her cot. As soon as Chloe saw her she rolled onto her back and began a deep-throated purr, a sign she wanted to be petted and brushed. Carly accommodated her on both counts and was still brushing her when Bishop returned. And, when they both retired to their cots, after Bishop brought her up-to-date on the broadcast and subsequent conversation, Chloe curled up next to Carly and immediately went to sleep.

  During the night, when Carly awoke, as she always did, she found that Chloe was no longer on the cot with her. She took her flashlight and went to check on the children and found Chloe curled up with Kiera. She looked up momentarily as if to say, “I’m doing fine, Mom,” and then closed her eyes again. Carly knew at that moment that Chloe would adapt just fine to their new environment.

  ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

  As Jack turned off the radio and the group began leaving the Meeting Hall to return to their own tents, Kathleen saw the opportunity to get her mother, father, and grandmother aside to have the talk she had been dreading since that afternoon. Mel, of course, knew immediately what it was about and suggested they all sit at one of the tables for a bit. Kathleen chose to sit next to her grandmother for support. Mel laid her hand on Kathleen’s knee, under the table, and could feel the nervousness she was feeling. Having her hand on Kathleen’s knee helped calm her granddaughter down considerably.