Winds of Ares: An Apocalypse Thriller

by Druga, Jacqueline

  Skip smiled. “Six hundred, thirty dollars and fourteen cents.”

  Lane nearly screamed, stomping his foot like a child.

  “Ha!” Skip pointed. “Thought so. Idle threats.”

  “Fine. Right now, everything is falling apart,” Lane said. “Don’t you see that? Money will be worthless.”

  “It looks that way.” Skip lifted the keys and dangled them. “It’s fine. You’ll be back to buying your Starbucks in a few days.”

  Lane reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, dug in there and set money on the table.

  “Is that your rodeo pay from last night?” I asked.

  “Yep. I didn’t put it in the ATM,” Lane replied.

  I knew what my husband made and I knew the wad of money dropping to the table wasn’t six hundred dollars.

  “Right there.” Lane pointed “Is three hundred and seventeen dollars.”

  I crinkled my brow, “Why is it an odd amount?”

  “I stopped at McDonald’s.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Skip,” Lane said. “I know it’s not the amount you wanted. But you know Martin. He won’t let me cheat you. He’ll make sure one way or another you get the rest. Now be a decent human being, realize I have kids with me, stop being a dick and give me the keys.”

  “A dick,” said Skip.

  “A dick,” Lane repeated.

  Liza nodded. “You are being a dick.”

  “Fine. Fine. Because I’m not a dick.” He swiped the money, dropped the keys and pushed them forward.

  “Thank you.” Lane turned to Carlie and Reese. “Come on, kids.” He reached for the keys, fingers barely touching.

  “Stop.” Alice the trucker approached him. “Look, it’s dangerous out there. I get it. You need to find the kids’ grandpa. He’s out there. Probably searching through rubble. Leave the kids, let me drive you in my rig. That road with a twister threat ain’t no place for a Barbie camper.”

  Liza added. “I’ll watch them. I swear. I’d feel better if they didn’t go.”

  I hated the thought of leaving the kids behind, but it was safer.

  “Wait.” Lane held up his hand. “You’re offering to drive us to Wilderado in your truck?”

  “Yes.” Alice nodded.

  “You just watched me haggle with Skip-a-roo here, why didn’t you say anything then?”

  “Because the man needs paid,” Alice said. “Now are you taking my offer or what?”

  Lane looked at me and I glanced to Carlie.

  “Will you be alright?” I asked her. “Watch your brother if we leave you behind?”

  “Don’t be long,” she said. “Please.”

  Alice replied. “We won’t be. Now are we going or what?”

  Lane wiped up and secured the RV keys, placing them in his pocket, my guess, in case Skip changed his mind. “We’re going.”

  ✽✽✽

  In my mind, we were going to locate Martin somewhere in Wilderado, probably digging through rubble, trying to calm Rosie.

  Poor Rosie.

  I hoped her daughter and grandchildren were alright, that they made it to safety before the funnels hit.

  By my calculation the phrase, ‘lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice’, didn’t apply to Wilderado.

  I was confident we’d find him, and he had missed all the destruction that rained down on the western part of the state.

  Lane didn’t say much on the drive. He kept looking out the window. There was so much rubble and debris, stuff lifted in the storm and tossed everywhere. It was a litter field of household appliances, cars and furniture.

  Alice didn’t drive fast, she drove cautiously, swerving around things that could potentially cause problems if we ran over them or into them. Like a large, stainless steel, stand-up freezer set perfectly straight up in the middle of Interstate Forty.

  It wasn’t long, shortly after we passed the ‘Wilderado Ten miles’ sign, before Alice stopped.

  Police lights flashed ahead. It was the first emergency vehicle I had seen in it all.

  He was pulled sideways across the road and stood by his squad car. Two other cars were parked near him, and several people stood there.

  The officer waved his hands.

  We had stopped a good distance from him before he started waving. I didn’t understand why he was flagging us.

  Alice put the truck in park and opened her door at the same time as Lane.

  As Lane helped me out of the truck, I heard Alice.

  “Afternoon, Officer, can we get through?” she asked.

  “No one is getting through,” he replied.

  With Lane, I stepped around to the front of the truck where Alice stood with the officer. I saw the reason.

  “Jana, this is insane,” Lane said with awe, stepping forward.

  I followed him. Walking through a mine field of dirt and concrete scattered about the road. Stepping closer to the people, it was hard not to see the huge gap in the road. It was ten feet wide, and shallow, but deep enough to be too dangerous to drive across.

  It reminded me of the indentation a scooper made in a fresh tub of ice cream. There was no way around it. To the left and right it went as far as the eye could see.

  “Twister came through here,” the officer explained. “It came from the south and went straight.”

  “Anything on the radio?” Lane asked.

  “Nothing.”

  The rip in the road was concerning, but it didn’t make me tremble like what I had seen on the horizon.

  It brewed quickly. It was hard to tell how far away the storm was. Thick, ominous clouds swirled violently, mixing in shades of gray as lighting snapped horizontally through it at a steady rate.

  It was hard to see if bolts were striking the ground. More than likely, they were.

  I felt Lane reach down and grab my hand. He squeezed it firmly and held it that way.

  We weren’t going any farther. We weren’t finding Martin.

  The only choice we had was to turn back.

  NINE – PILGRAMAGE

  It wasn’t a matter of ‘if’ Martin would come back, it was a matter of when. To me, at least, and I wouldn’t let the kids think any other way.

  Lane was more grounded. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t close to Martin. He was just as close as any of us. Martin was like a second father to him. But he believed if Martin was going to return it wasn’t going to be in a time frame conducive to getting the kids to safety. If indeed the Jupiter Project was real.

  My husband was believing me more and more. When I didn’t have the binder, he did. Although we both looked for two different reasons. He was looking for what was coming, what was next and when it would occur.

  Me, I looked for reasons it wasn’t going to happen yet. That Julius’ time frame of two more weeks was the correct time frame and what we were witnessing was the beginning, but it wasn’t the big hit.

  Not yet.

  It was probably more wishful thinking, but I was sticking to it.

  For over a year I had been planning and preparing. There was no reason I couldn’t come up with a plan that included waiting and maybe even searching for Martin.

  First things first. We had to get the kids to the ranch. The house was gone, but the shelter was there should another storm hit. When we returned to the diner after our futile trip, the police officer and six others from the highway followed us.

  It truly was one of the only places standing, just as Alice and the injured traveler had said when they arrived.

  When we left the diner to head back to the ranch, we left behind twenty people. I didn’t tell them what we knew, nor did I tell the kids how discouraging the trip to find Martin was.

  We tried to keep the kids occupied and optimistic. Telling them Martin was helping Rosie.

  They didn’t need to know, not yet. Martin was a huge presence in all of our lives. I did not, for one second, feel he was no longer with us.

  It was still early in the day whe
n we got back to the ranch. We immediately put Reese on horse duty. Having him walk them, water them, while we focused on the house.

  Until the sun set, we rummaged through the home, salvaging what we could for Martin. Favorite mugs, pictures, canned goods, a blanket his grandmother had knitted, were some of the items I found. Lane located his rifles. The ones that graced the case in the dining room. Three of the five were damaged. The other two had some scuff marks, Lane stated he would have to test them. The one Martin kept in the barn was in pristine condition.

  Liz from the diner gave us some hot dogs and some little snack cakes for the kids. I cooked the dogs on the RV’s little grill along with a can of chili. While I made dinner, Lane created a fire pit more so for light than warmth. Dinner was enough to fill our bellies, plus, it probably would be a long time, if ever, until we had hot dogs. With that on my mind, I had three.

  We parked the RV near the barn, it was less dusty there. We kept the one barn door open so the horses could get some of the light from the fire. I wasn’t sure it was necessary, but it seemed right.

  The kids were exhausted. I thought they’d go to sleep a lot earlier, but it took them a while. I guess the events of the day were emotionally challenging. I knew I wasn’t going to sleep very easily.

  Finally, after the complaints of weird smells on the RV pull out bed, they passed out. I probably bored them with my counting of supplies.

  Lane had asked me to bring two glasses when I came out to sit with him, which took a lot longer than he expected. With the kids out, I grabbed two glasses. Only they weren’t glass, they were old plastic Tupperware glasses that came with the camper.

  “Hey, hon, are you coming out?” Lane called from outside.

  I stepped out, holding them up. “Here with the glasses. Are you … are you smoking?”

  “Yeah, I thought you knew, I started again a year ago.”

  “No, I didn’t know.”

  Lane had a little folding chair for me next to him and I sat.

  “How?” Lane asked. “How did you not smell it on me?”

  “I thought you were hanging out with someone that smoked.” I shrugged. “Man, why are you and Martin picking up your bad habits again at the end of the world?”

  “What better time.” He joked.

  “Oh, yeah, for sure. When there are no doctors. Anyhow, here’s your glass.”

  He took it and laughed. “Wow, this is old.”

  “Clean though. The entire set came with the RV.”

  “Sweet.” He lifted a bottle of Bourbon. “Unbroken, care for a swig?”

  I gasped. “Lane, that is his Rip Van stuff. It’s like twenty-five hundred dollars a bottle.”

  “Do you really think he paid twenty-five hundred bucks for a bottle of bourbon called Old Pappy’s?”

  “Probably not.”

  “No.” Lane scoffed. “He started an urban legend that’s all.”

  “That has been around as long as Carlie has,” I said. “He’ll be mad if we open it.”

  “No, he won’t. Too late, I already did. He’ll be fine.” He poured a little in my cup. “Let’s make it last though.”

  “I don’t plan on drinking the whole bottle with you, Lane.” I clicked my plastic glass to his and sipped. The bourbon was smooth yet had more of a barrel taste and bite. “Yeah.” I smacked my lips together. “This is not a two thousand dollar bottle.”

  “You’re right.” Lane looked at the glass after drinking. “I’m thinking Ten High at eight bucks a bottle tastes smoother.”

  “I know, right?”

  “Can I ask you something?” He glanced over at me.

  “Sure.”

  “I saw you had mapped out the entire route to West Virginia. What are the little markings with the U mean?”

  “Places in each town that have underground areas we can get to. Garage business.”

  “That’s a lot of research,” he said.

  “I used Google, then I’d call.” I shrugged. “I wanted to make sure no matter where we went, we had a place to stop.”

  “I’m impressed. Also, you had a pretty big area in West Virginia colored in. I thought you said you knew where we’re go.”

  “Yeah, I know where we’re going.”

  “The bunker?” Lane asked. “I mean did you ever think about how he’s gonna get access to that bunker?”

  “His family’s company owns the property.”

  Lane laughed.

  “What?”

  “You believe that?”

  “I don’t know, I think that’s why I marked the map,” I explained. “The area colored in is the safe section located between the Allegheny and Appalachian mountain ranges.”

  “That whole section you marked is safe?” Lane asked.

  “Yep. So, we had a place to go if the bunker didn’t pan out. That area in West Virginia, nestled safe in between those ranges is where we need to be when Ares hits.”

  “I’m sorry … Ares? Like the God?”

  “Yes. That’s what Julius is calling the final storm. Which is a final accumulation of all that was screwed. It will be the massive storm, the grand finale, but the one that corrects it.”

  “Ares,” he said with a nod. “Hence, why he called the project Olympus.”

  “Yep.” I brought the glass back to my lips and paused when I felt the tremors beneath my feet. It wasn’t strong like in the afternoon, but it was there along with a loud humming.

  After a brief moment of panicking, where I thought about how fast I could get the kids below and the RV into the barn safely with the horse, I realized it wasn’t another funnel coming.

  It was a motor I heard.

  Slowly, I stood at the same time as Lane and saw the headlights of the large vehicle making its way up the driveway.

  It was a truck, and the closer it drew; I saw it was Alice’s truck. Behind her was four more vehicles. Two cars, a pickup and a school bus.

  Alice’s truck stopped with a squeal of the air brakes, the headlights were blinding as they blasted right at me and Lane.

  Both the driver and passenger doors opened

  Alice was a mere shadow in the headlights of the vehicles behind her, but I could tell it was her.

  The other person, a man, I didn’t know.

  Until he spoke.

  “I heard you were worried about me.”

  “Martin!” I shrieked and raced to him, throwing my arms around him. “We were so worried.”

  “I’m fine. Wasn’t hurt. Thanks to Alice, I’m here.” He gave a nod her way.

  She stepped closer. “I just couldn’t shake it. Plus, what else was I gonna do. When I found out Skip had a dirt bike, I took it. Found him in Wilderado.”

  Lane hugged Martin. “The kids are going to be so happy. Is that … is that my truck?”

  “Yep.” Martin nodded.

  “Martin?” I asked. “What’s going on?”

  Martin sighed out. “Jana, it’s bad out there. Getting worse by the minute. It looks like everything you said is right. So, we’re all yours.”

  His words stumbled me back in surprise. “What do you mean all mine?”

  “It means you have an idea of what’s coming, and you know a safe place to go,” Martin replied.

  “Do you?” asked Alice.

  “Theoretically, yes.”

  “No.” Lane shook his head. “It’s more than theoretical. Don’t let her kid you. She’s been working on this a long time with that Julius guy. You ought to see that binder. She has a plan. Total trip mapped out, including a safe zone.”

  “Good.” Martin reached out and squeezed my arm. “Then what better person to lead these people out of harm’s way and into safety.”

  Was he kidding me? I wanted to say that to him.

  Lead the people to safety?

  In that moment, everything I was so confident in was overshadowed by my instant self-doubt.

  From the looks of things, the vehicles, it was more than a handful or even a group. It was no
longer my family, but a pilgrimage. Like I was some apocalypse Moses leading people across a country to a promise land which may or may not exist.

  I wasn’t Moses, I certainly didn’t have his guts or faith in what was ahead.

  I was just some woman carrying a four dollar Walmart binder filled mostly with maps and notes from a man I never met.

  Who was I to lead anyone?

  TEN – BARS

  It started raining just after midnight. Not hard, but steadily enough we had to move the entire caravan of vehicles from Martin’s property to avoid getting stuck in what was fast becoming a mud bath. Before long the layers of dirt tossed up by the massive dust devils, mixed with the rain would prove a hindrance.

  The main road wasn’t far from the driveway and not nearly as covered with dirt as the ranch. We moved all the vehicles there until it would be light enough to travel safely.

  What I hadn’t seen when Martin arrived was the horse trailer. It was pulled by the school bus. We moved it to the highway as well, then rode the horses, through the rain and mud, during the remainder of the night.

  It was safer for the horses that way.

  Poor Reese. Just a boy, but he rode with the experience of a man. Going back the second time with Lane and Martin to bring the animals to safety.

  Martin didn’t bother looking through the rubble of his home. His focus was on the remaining horses and making sure they were fine. He was happy when he heard we had collected items for him.

  By the time we had situated everything, including the horses, it was almost time to go. We’d only be on the highway a few miles, then we’d head north to take a series of secondary roads that would take us fifteen hundred miles to West Virginia.

  It was more than I bargained or asked for.

  It was more than just our RV, a pickup truck, two cars, a school bus and the tractor trailer. It was people. A lot of people.

  Skip was there, at least we had him if there was any trouble with the vehicles. But also, Liza from the diner, Rosie and her two grandchildren, and many others.

  I hadn’t gotten a head count, and really, I didn’t want to know.

  Men, women and children.