Earth's Survivors Apocalypse (9 page)

“Anyway, my point is this,” Bob said as he began to speak again, “there may be something to that earthquake theory some of you have been kicking around. It could be that the fault line may have been triggered,” Bob was saying. “If it was, we really ought to be thinking about finding a safer place to be. I remember reading about that fault line, and it seems to me the book I read, said that if the fault were somehow triggered, it could, and probably would, crack the entire Great Lakes Basin. That means that Ontario, along with all the other lakes in the chain, probably would drop. At least a small amount at first, but after they recover from the initial drop, they're probably going to rise... They're probably going to rise, a lot. I don't know what most of you know about this city, but I'll tell you what I know. Got it from the same book,” he paused. “...It’s built on pretty low ground. Now... that river,” he said indicating the bridge that spanned the Black river on the opposite side of the Public Square, “has surely been rising.”

With that the discussion went back to where they should go, and what they should do once they got there.

“You're right,” Mike said at last, “We do need to make some decisions,” he paused for a moment and then continued. “When was the last time anyone here ate? I know that sounds a little stupid at a time like this, but if we're going anywhere we should also think about food, and in this heat dehydration could become a factor as well, couldn't it, Bob?” he finished, looking toward him.

“I should have thought of that myself,” Bob said, “how many of us are there?”

Candace quickly counted heads and replied. “Twenty-seven, Bob.”

Bob nodded his head. “Okay... Let’s do this. We do have to eat, so let’s head up Maple Street to
Jacobs Superette
, get something to eat, and finish this discussion there.”

Everyone agreed, and the small group left the public square and walked the three blocks to
Jacob's Superette
in a light rain that had begun to fall.

Jacob's Superette

Mike, Candace, Bob and several others were standing by the rear doors that led to the stockroom in Jacob's Superette.

They had been discussing where they should go. A few others from the small group, were there with them.

Mike looked around at them as the conversation went back and forth. They seemed solid enough. Terry Jacobs who had worked for Bob, Patty Johnson who was married to a GI from the base who was now stationed overseas, and Ronnie Vincent, a carpenter working on one of the many housing developments in the area. There were others but many of those others that had followed them to Jacobs Superette did not really seem to be doing anything other than following. The ones that had gathered at the back of the store seemed to be on the same page, leaving Watertown.

Ed Weston and Dave Jackson had joined the small group earlier. Ed had worked for Bob at the gravel pit for over ten years. He was tall with dirty-blonde hair and a slim muscular build, and Mike liked him. He'd grown up right here in Watertown on Fig Street, down by Jackson's Lumber. A piss poor family, but Ed himself was a damn good man. He seemed a little rattled today, but weren't they all? He was a hard worker and would be an asset to the group if he chose to come along.

Bob and Candace both knew Dave. He owned one of the local lumber mills: A small family mill. He had also driven truck for Bob once or twice when things were slow. Mike had never met him, but he had seen him around: Watertown was a small city. Neither of the men had voiced their opinions, but had been standing quietly as the other three had talked. Dave was younger than Ed, but just as tall, and his dark black hair was tied in a small ponytail that hung down his back.

The conversation at the market never really got going. The crowd that followed had spread out into the store, taking what they wanted to eat and then split up into smaller groups, discussing their own plans. A few had congregated near the beer coolers. That discussion was sometimes heated, and more than once Mike had caught some nasty looks directed at them from that crowd.

“I guess not everyone is on the same page,” Mike said now.

“It was a good idea,” Bob said. “You can't make people see a good idea. Look at cigarettes. People knew for years what they were doing to them and they still smoked. Some of these people haven't hit the wall yet. They still believe the system will save them.”

“Yeah, except there is no system,” Ronnie said.

Bob nodded.

“Listen,” Mike started. He paused until they were all looking at him, not sure if he really wanted to proceed. “Might sound stupid,” he said after a few moments of silence.

“I don't think anything would sound stupid right now... We're trying to figure this out,” Candace said.

Mike frowned. “Okay.” He frowned deeply, and then nodded decisively.  “So it's this. I was leaving this morning for the Southern Tier. I'm thinking, the truck is all packed, what are we,” he paused and counted heads, “Eight? I have enough food packed to keep us all fed for a few days... We could head out to the Tug Hill Plateau. Close by. We could pick up some stuff here to take with us too...” He paused again, but no one spoke. “I say let's get another truck or two and get away from the city for a few days. Maybe the Tug Hill Plateau wouldn't be a bad place to be right now. Let things calm down, especially the hot heads.” He paused, his face grim. “We can come back in a few days... Maybe the Guard will be here by then, maybe not, but it would give us a few days to think this out, if it... Well, if it really is as bad as it seems to be...” He looked from face to face as he stopped speaking.

“Smart,” Ronnie said.

“Probably for the best,” Bob agreed. He had all been listening to the nearby conversations, some loud and argumentative, and the beer cooler was emptying quickly: That certainly wasn't going to help the problem.

“Yeah... These guys seem bent on getting drunk and figuring it all out,” Patty said.

“I've seen that sort of thinking before,” Candace agreed. “I vote go.”

“I'm on that,” Ronnie agreed.

Dave Jackson and Ed Weston agreed.

“I make that all eight?” Mike asked.

“Only, let's get some trucks and get what we need here before we go. This place is going to get picked over fast,” Candace said.

“Who do you want
to go with you?” Mike asked.

“I'm open,” Candace replied.

“I'll go,” Patty said.

“Me too,” Ronnie added.

“That's enough... I guess we'll get stuff ready here... Wait on you,” Mike said. He held Candace's eyes until she nodded. A second later she and the others left and the rest of them began to put together some bags of supplies.

March 3
rd
 

Harlem: Tosh's Notebook

(Night)

Rain in the day, but as soon as the sun set, it turned colder. Snow, heavy snow, thunder and lightening throughout the night. No moon or starlight. No stars at all!

Old Towne: Katie ~ March 3rd

I lost this yesterday; my little notebook. I left it by the window so I could see to write, but I swear it wasn't there when I went to get it; then I found it again later on by the window right where I left it. Maybe I'm losing my mind.

There are no police, no firemen, phones, electric. The real world is falling apart. Two days and nothing that I thought I knew is still here. Do you see? The whole world has changed.

I got my guitar out and played it today. I played for almost three hours. I played my stuff. I played some blues. Usually blues will bring me out of blues, but it didn't work. It sounded so loud, so out of place, so... I don't know. I just stopped and put it away.

My wrists are messed up, but I think I kept them from getting infected.  My right side is black and blue; stomach, breast, all of it. There is a long scrape too, I made sure I disinfected it. It looks horrible. I don't remember how that happened at all. I barely remember any of it. I thought at first it might be a bullet wound. I remember shooting, my ribs ache pretty good on that side, but the pain worked it's way out and I examined it; it's just a long scrape. I might have done it myself getting out of there. Healing now.

Late afternoon? Somewhere around there we had a really bad quake. This whole place moved, and I could hear buildings crashing down outside: Glass shattering, metal screaming as it pulled apart. I heard no people, but the noise of an earthquake is not a rumble. I thought that from TV, but it isn't. It's a roar. Made it through, I don't know what tomorrow will bring, or if it's even safe to be here.

March 4
th

Old Towne: Katie

Sunrise

Things are so bad. I'm going out. I have to see, if I don't come back. Well... What good is writing this?

Mike and Candace

The Tug Hill Plateau

Early Morning

The camp was a makeshift place off an old logging trail. It was dry under the pines where they had set up camp, but the logging road had flooded over, the water had receded, and now the road was a quagmire of mud steaming in the early morning sun.

They had encountered no major obstacles on the way in. Mike knew the way. The road was cracked in a few places, flooded in a few others, but only a few inches of water. The major stuff had held off until they had arrived and settled in.

The last few days had bought rain, snow, and what felt like earthquakes or explosions far away. Heavy vibrations they could feel through the pine needle covered ground. No one was sure what they really were, but they were all worried about it.

They had made up their minds late last night, when the rains had stopped to get out of the woods, but the two new trucks they had driven in would not start. Mike's old truck turned over and started fine. They had spent most of the sunrise checking over the two trucks, but they found nothing wrong with them. The batteries were up, the starters turned over, but they would not fire. There was no spark at the plug. Ronnie and Bob who were both mechanics were puzzled over what could be causing it.

“If we go, most of you will get stuck in the back of my truck... No other way for it,” Mike said.

They had spent a great deal of the last few days wondering what was going on in the world. Twice, slow moving cargo planes had overflown them. They had seen no markings on the wings, but they had both been painted the olive drab of army equipment. The battery powered radio they had listened to had stopped working. Their wristwatches, cell phones, the two trucks, all dead. The had wondered about a Nuclear blast, maybe that was what had happened to the electronics.

Ronnie nodded. “Maybe that is the deal though. Your truck is old, no electronic brain... Maybe we could find another like it... Or two.”

“If it was a nuke, would it knock out electronics like that? And wouldn't we all be sick right now?” Patty asked.

“Not necessarily... If it was it wasn't close, so it would just depend on which way the wind was blowing,” Candace said. “Electronics? I have heard that, but I don't know. Makes me wish I paid attention to all of that apocalypse stuff on the internet.”

“A dirty bomb... I think that's what they called it, but it could have been that meteor... I think I read once that a near miss could be as bad as a direct hit. Mess things up the same as a nuclear bomb.” Bob shrugged.

“But they said that would miss us completely,” Ed threw in.

Dave nodded, “Maybe it didn't. Wouldn't be the first time
they
said something that turned out to be bullshit.”

“What? You don't trust your own government,” Patty asked in mock surprise.

“Yeah... Well, either way we're back to sticking it out here or going back to Watertown to see what's going on... Or somewhere else for that matter,” Mike threw out after a few moments of silence.

“I say we go back... Maybe the guard is there, or has been there.,” Patty said.

“Can't hide out up here forever,” Ed agreed.

“We'll run out of food... At the least we have to stock back up,” Ronnie added.

Bob nodded. “With more too... We don't know how long this is going to be.”

“Or if it still is,” Candace added.

“There is that too,” Bob agreed.

“At the least then we should go back and stock up. I mean if no one is there, we can stock up, come back here if it's bad and decide what to do... Get on with the old life if there is someone there,” Terry said.

“Who wants the front seat... Two,” Mike asked.

“Probably the girls,” Dave said.

“Why is that,” Candace asked.

“What?” Dave asked.

“Why the girls,” She shook her head before he answered. “Well, I'm not a girl. I'm a woman. It was a rough road to become a woman, and I don't want to be called a girl.”

“Hey... Peace. I didn't mean anything by it,” Dave said.

The silence held for a few minutes.

“Well, let's get this place picked up... I guess store everything in the other two trucks... Maybe we'll come back for them,” Mike said.

“Maybe not,” Bob added. “So bring what you want to keep, only make it a small amount.”

Mike nodded.

A half hour later Mike drove the old truck down the logging road, sticking to four wheel drive and the sides of the road where he could. Twice he had had to make everyone get out and then take a run at a particularly bad section of road before they all climbed in once more. It was late morning before they found route 177. A short time later they found route 11 and headed back toward the small city of Watertown.

Billy Jingo: L.A.

March 4
th

Billy paced the hallway, trying to think it out. Telling himself it was the right thing to do. The problem was that he was not used to doing the right thing. So unused to it, in fact, that he wasn't sure he wanted to try...
should
try.

He was living in the same building that Beth lived in. That had happened before the shit had hit the fan, but only a little before. He had walked Beth home one night and had met Beth's neighbor, Jamie, and she had convinced him to move into the building with her. Sleep on the couch. Strictly platonic. He was pretty sure every strictly platonic relationship he had ever had had ended up in the sack. He had stayed to be close to Beth, even though he knew that Jamie thought he was staying for her. Lately though she had become more and more possessive, and when it came to Beth something more than possessive, crazy was a better word.

That told Billy, or at least it told Beth and
Beth
told Billy, that Jamie was in love with him. Suspected he was seeing Beth and was angry about it. Feeling played, tricked, something along those lines. And that was making her crazy, and really there was no blame to place except with Billy who was not doing exactly what Jamie expected, but would have been in a second if Beth had given him a green light, a nod, really anything.

He sighed now. He felt like shit about it. He really did, but what was there he could do? He had tried to leave twice and Jamie had gotten so crazy that it had scared him. Beth had told him that couldn't matter. He had to leave. It was only going to get worse. And she was right, but where would he go? He would have to leave the building and that meant being away from Beth, and he just couldn't do that. He hadn't said any of that to anyone. It was unspoken, but it was still just as true as if he had spoken those words. His little world was turned upside down, that was for sure, and he didn't know how he could ever hope to right it.

There were things now to take his mind of it though. The whole world had been turned upside down for the last few days. The changes spread far behind their little world. There was no official word that anything was wrong at all, but someone had fucked up. Of that he had no doubt at all.

The police? Gone. Fire department? Ditto. Army? Well, wasn't the National Guard supposed to show up when the shit hit the fan? So far the army had not raised a finger to do anything for them at all. There was a base right over by the airport near the Los Angeles Freeway, but there had been no sign of them.

The building was on the north side, a high rise that had been new sometime back in the seventies. He had gone up to the roof twice during the day and looked over the city.

It appeared to be dead. There was a precinct only two blocks away, deserted, doors hanging open. Looters were carrying away cheap computer systems, and who knew what else; a steady stream in and out of the front doors.

There were fires over past the park. It appeared to be a whole block over by Jordan Downs, but there were other single fires all over the city too. There had been for two days now, and no one had come to put those fires out. And there was more; you could hear gunfire from all over the city all night long. He continued to pace the hall.

This was not normally a bad neighborhood, but it was no picnic either. There had been a few fires here, but the people that lived nearby had put them out quickly. Dozens of buildings had come down or were now tilted crazily. The looting had started at some point, and now there were armed men prowling the streets in gangs.

He and Beth had acquired guns from a shop a few blocks over, ransacked, left open to the world. He had loaded his and waited, but the few that had ventured to his door had turned away when they had seen him with the gun.

Winston, the old man that lived in the back basement apartment, had called them all down to listen to the radio just a short time ago. Not your average radio, a Short Band receiver. They had ended up listening to military talk; military talk that was probably supposed to be restricted. The stories that had come from that radio said the rest of the world was no better off. Explosions or earthquakes, there was a great deal of devastation everywhere.

A few years before he had watched the end of a documentary about the end of civilization with a few friends. They were tuning in a little early to watch a national football game. The documentary had zeroed in on how all the things that modern civilization took for granted would fail. The police, the politicians, even the news organizations that were always everywhere into everything. Billy and his friends had gotten a good laugh over it. He had been down in Mexico at the time because of some trouble he had gotten into in New York. And he had been living like a king. What sort of trouble could come? What he had listened to on the radio in the last few days had changed his mind completely.

Washington D.C. was completely overrun, the President gone. They weren’t even sure he had made it into hiding. New York and Atlanta, no word at all. Mexico, absolutely silent. Canada, the same. Millions of people absolutely silent. How could that even be? And right here in Los Angeles there was talk on the radio about gangs running the city too, and probably every city in between L.A. and New York, because if they had taken over the big cities, what kind of chance did the smaller cities and towns have, he asked himself. 

The local CBS affiliate had stopped broadcasting here three days ago, even though what they had been broadcasting had been sketchy because the satellites were out and so they had been dependent upon news delivered by travelers coming out of the east or up from the south. It had apparently not stopped broadcasting soon enough in the east, where T.V. viewers had witnessed the network studios being overrun, and the anchor of the evening news attacked on camera. The United states was under attack by her own people.

He had spent some time checking the other stations, cable, internet. Univision? Nothing at all. ABC? NBC? Dead air. Cable? Satellite? Frozen pictures on some channels, nothing at all on the others, and not a single channel you could actually watch. The internet was dead. That had seemed worse than all the rest of it. Google didn't load the page for his browser, but it also didn't tell him why. Nothing.

And it wasn't just the United States, North and South America. Germany had not been heard from in a week. England, France, all the European countries were incommunicado. The radio mans words, not Billy's. Australia had seemed fine up until two days ago. They had been talking about the problems facing America and Great Briton. They seemed to be wondering what was going on the same as everyone else. Then the broadcast had stopped in mid sentence. Shortly after that the few HAM radio operators that had been relaying information from there had gone silent too, since then he had paced the hallways. He should talk to Beth... Jamie... Winston... Scotty, a few others. It might be time to talk about getting out of here. The thing he was concerned about was the non action from the military. That was not military like. For them to be sitting by and allowing this to happen, it must be a serious thing. And he had no doubt that eventually they would get their shit together, or
think
they had their shit together, and then they would act. And who knew what their remedy might be?