Jacqueline Druga

UNDER THE GRAY SKIES

One – Backpack

The flesh on her right hand and wrist was discolored, hard and cold as it extended out from the wall of wreckage. It was all that remained of my sister. All that I could see. I held on to that hand for days, just holding it, crying, until I could no longer hold her hand because the flesh would rot off against my own fingers.

How I survived was a mystery. There had been no moment of regret, no sudden fear, no final thoughts screaming in my mind, “This is it. I’m going to die.”

There was however, complete astonishment when I opened my eyes and was still alive.

I woke to find my average size female body curled in a fetal position in a space no bigger than four by four feet. My own tiny box. It was pure luck the way things crumbled around me. I was the fortunate one, trapped in some sort of air pocket haven that had formed from the end section of the airport tram car.

My sister and the dozens that were around me weren’t so lucky.

Upon regaining consciousness, I was disoriented. I could feel metal and concrete surrounding me. Of course, I was pretty sure I was upside down. The blood rushed to my head but I was able to turn myself around and move my legs a bit. They ached some and I wasn’t sure if it was due to my prior position, or an injury.

The straps to my heavy backpack were still hooked over my shoulders, and that was when I realized, that pack probably saved my life. At the very least it protected me from something smashing against my spine. I was grateful at that moment that I hadn’t set it down, or checked it like my sister insisted I do.

“Just check it, Lace,” she said. “They’re asking for volunteers to give up their carry on. It’s free.”

She gave up her carry on and flashed the claim sticker. Lindsay almost had me convinced… then it all began.

Now that carry on was my life saver.

At first it didn’t matter what was in that bag… at first. I was stuck in this black spot. I couldn’t see anything. I could smell a hint of smoke and there was a dust of some sort that kept making me cough every time I cried out, “Help! Someone! Help!”

It seemed like I called out for hours. Over and over.

No one answered. In fact, there wasn’t any sound. Not a moan, or cry in the distance. There wasn’t a sound of anything falling, or water dripping.

Only silence.

After what I believed was a couple hours later, my small safety pocket brightened some. Not much. A glow of gray light seeped thought a fist size hole four feet from my face and I was able to make out my small surroundings. Three quarters of my little area were the remains of that airport tram. The metal was twisted around me and crushed beneath concrete. I wondered if the tram broke. The hole of light seemed to come from a wall of rubble around the severed edge of the tram car. The light also brightened that pocket enough for me to see my sister’s hand, it protruded from the debris and steel. It wasn’t far from me the entire time.

I screamed when I saw it, recognizing the ring on her middle finger. The same hand I was holding when things shook and fell down around us.

How did I survive, and not her? We were right there, together with the dozens of people that made it out of that airport terminal. Yet, I was alone, alive?

The small circle of light was also enough for me to see my watch. My mother’s watch. It was old and it had to be wound up daily. The face of the watch had cracked, but I could still see enough to tell the date had moved once and it was sixteen hours since I stood at that airport gate with my sister.

Sixteen hours.

How long had I been unconscious, rolled in a ball?

Inching about that pocket of space, I peered out the hole.

There was nothing to see. It was as if I were in some sort of gray cloud. I didn’t know if I were high above the debris, or close to the ground.

I just knew my position in that mound of crumbled airport didn’t matter. I was certain no one was near enough to hear me cry out. I was left to my own resources.

TWO – Delayed

We called it the three legged race. Not that it was a race, it wasn’t anything like it. I suppose Lindsay and I could have given it a better name, like the tripod vacation. It was something we planned for years. Waiting for not only the available time, but also the finances to do so. Neither of us had disposable cash. Our dream vacation was the product of our hard work.

We started planning it when Lindsay moved to California with her husband, knowing full well it would take years to achieve. It broke my heart when she moved away. Her husband Kyle was in the Navy and was transferred out west. Her daughter Crystal was only three.

We talked daily, sometimes three or four times a day. Not only that, we texted and spoke through social media. The separation was tough. We were close. Lindsay was a year older, but everyone treated us like twins.

She worked as a nurse’s aide, I was one of three leasing agents at a public housing apartment complex. When the opportunity arose we stepped up on planning our trip. It really was a fluke. Every other week I drove a hundred miles to visit my mother for the weekend. Once a month, she and I visited the casino. Sixty dollars into my monthly gambling excursion, I hit a jackpot on a fifty cent bet. It wasn’t a huge jackpot, eighteen hundred dollars, but enough for my husband to take that money, tuck it away and say, “Plan.”

We did.

The money was enough to cover the airfare for the both of us on our dream trip. The plan was for me to fly out to California, visit her, Dave and Crystal, then after three days she and I would go to Vegas. Finally, both of us would fly to see my mother where we’d all spend time together.

It had been years since I saw her.

I loved the time I spent with her and her family. It went by so fast.

Lindsay was a good hearted soul who worked too hard. Then again, she had a hard job. She never complained about it. In fact, she talked highly about those she cared for and worked with. She walked with a limp and moved like someone far older than her forty-one years. Years of lifting patients gave her a bad back. I joked about that as much as she joked about my desk job rear end.

She had children late in life, I was done early.

Lindsay was without a doubt the closest friend I ever had.

We never fought. Not even as teenagers.

Spats, yes, fights, never.

In fact, we got into a fun spat about my carry-on backpack. I told her she would thank me at thirty thousand feet when I whipped out my one quart freezer bag full of tiny booze bottles for us to sneak on the flight.

It was a perfect trip, and a perfect day.

They had just made an announcement requesting passengers to check their carry ons free of charge because the flight was full. Of course it was full, it was one of those bargain airlines. The kind where you don’t get seat assignments just a boarding order line. We were line A and had just gotten into place when the tremor hit.

Being from the East, it was all new to me. The vibration along with the strange hum in my ears, made me panic slightly. While Lindsay wasn’t an earthquake connoisseur, she was barely fazed by the small rattle.

In fact, she waved it off as nothing and we stayed in our place in Line A.

We were settled in our spot when the second shake hit.

It was stronger and harder. It lasted about fifteen seconds. I grabbed onto Lindsay to keep my balance. The lights blinked, people screamed and the power went down.

I saw it on Lindsay’s face, she didn’t dismiss that one.

We were still in line and the power came back on rather quickly. Only a few minutes later, every single flight switched to ‘delayed’.

“We apologize for the inconvenience,” a woman announced over the PA. “At this time, we ask you to take a seat. The flight will board momentarily.”

A quake. A delay.

People groaned and moved to the seats.

I looked at the monitors and watched as every single flight changed to ‘Canceled’.

Not delayed.

“What the hell?” My words were cut short when another tremor hit, it was followed by another hard shake.

Then I saw it on my sister’s face, almost a revelation, like she knew or remembered something. I didn’t ask her about it at that moment, I should have.

Was it a keen instinct? Did she read something on the news that foretold of disaster?

“Something is wrong. Let’s go,” Lindsay said. “We aren’t leaving any time soon. We need to head out before everyone else does.”

“Oh my God, is this the big one?” I tossed my backpack over my shoulders.

“Really?” Lindsay looked at me as if I were nuts and shook her head.

“What about our luggage?” I asked, trying to keep up with her pace.

“Our luggage? My luggage. Yours is over your shoulder. Let’s just move.”

We did. We walked at a fast pace, weaving in and out of people moving in the same direction, quickly passing them by.

I kept looking around. People stared at the monitors, checked their phones. We… just moved.

Finally, we made our way to the tram system and waited with a large group of people.

“I don’t understand why we’re leaving?” I asked.

“I have lived here for years and never felt anything like that. There may be something bigger coming,” she said. “I don’t want to be here if there is. I’d rather be home.”

That made sense.

There were always other flights.

The doors to the tram slid open and we moved inside. Even if at that moment we opted against leaving, we didn’t have a choice. The people behind us pushed us in and we boarded with their momentum.

We stood next to each other holding on to the vertical bar, close to the windows, when the tram began to move.

Just as the speeding tram emerged from the tunnel and rounded the rails outside, all power was lost and the tram slowly moved along the tracks until it stopped between the terminal and parking lots

Mumbles of confused voices filled the tram at a high decibel.

“Oh my God,” Lindsay said, and grabbed my hand.

She was staring out at the city.

What? What did she see?

I finally looked.

I don’t know what she saw, but what I witnessed was terrifying. A huge, billowing gray cloud blocked everything on the horizon, even the sky. It plowed our way faster than any wave of water could. I had no idea what it was, what caused it or what was behind it, all I saw was the massive gray cloud eating everything in its path.

It seemed to get bigger, contorting in a menacing way. The closer it drew I could see debris within it, swirling around.

We were trapped.

High above the ground on the rail.

Trapped.

People banged on the doors, trying to open them. Where were they going to go?

Covering the horizon, all that we could see was that gray cloud rolling our way.

I clutched Lindsay’s hand tighter.

My heart raced, I didn’t breathe, and for some unknown reason, I wasn’t scared. Because I knew… no debating it, no reason to be frightened, there was nothing to be done.

I braced for impact.

It took all of twenty seconds for our fate to arrive. It seemed longer, like in slow motion. It moved closer, bigger, I held Lindsay tighter and it hit us like a huge truck slamming into a car.

The impact caused us to jolt back as glass shattered and sprayed everywhere. I saw from the corner of my eye at least three people fly out the broken windows. I felt the pressure of others ramming into my back, but it was brief. Before I too flew out, the tram lifted and my body sailed backwards slamming into the car load of people behind me.

Was I holding Lindsay’s hand at that moment?

We flipped around inside the tram like cement in a mixer until we fell to the bottom when it hit something. The ground perhaps? Or a building? Bodies flew about the cab as the tram began a high speed roll. I imagine many were ejected. I banged around only a few times that I could recall. After that, nothing.

I don’t remember stopping, or the last time I saw, or touched Lindsay.

I just remember opening my eyes, totally surrounded in black.

THREE – REFLECTION

It was my own dark womb. Small and snug like a baby in utero, I was able to turn and move my body enough where I could be in a comfortable position. The fist size hole in the debris was my escape, but unlike a baby, there was no way I was getting through that hole. None at all. Unlike the uterus, my space was cold. Oddly cold.

For the first three days I sat there crying, still holding my sister’s hand, screaming out for help. I had removed a T-shirt from my backpack and placed it over my face as a protection from the dust. It irritated my throat and my lungs. Finally, I stopped screaming.

There was no noise out there. Where were the rescue workers? Every time there was any sort of natural disaster, rescue crews were always sent immediately to the scene. What made this one different? Why were there no sounds of trucks, men shouting, or dogs barking as they sniffed through the wreckage?

There was none of that.

Only total absolute silence.

Nothingness.

Had I been thrown so far away from it all that for some reason we weren’t even in the scope of a possible rescue? My sister’s hand deteriorated, creating a stench that I ended up getting used to. Still, it broke my heart. In a dark space, there’s only time to think. I started thinking of my family, her family. Our children. My son, Evan was at Boy Scout camp, that first week. My husband was on a vacation, not only from work, but from me and my oldest daughter, Jana. She had just gotten her driver’s license. She must have sent me thirty texts a day while I was gone.

Thinking of her made me pull out my phone.

It was dead. Not an ounce of power.

I imagined my family around the television, watching the news, wondering if I was dead, or alive.

Lindsay’s family was only a few miles from the airport. Undoubtedly, they had been caught in whatever occurred. That was the million dollar question, what did occur?

I thought about that as well.

‘The Big One’ came to mind until I remembered that cloud. Was there a terror attack, was the city bombed? It reminded me of the videos I saw of the huge cloud when the Twin Towers fell in 2001. Only this one was stronger, bigger and faster.

What possibly could have happened to make that much of a huge debris field?

I kept going back to nuclear war. A bomb went off nearby, or something powerful like that. That scenario played in my head, making me fearful of leaving that hole.

Of the very little knowledge I had about nuclear weapons one thing I knew for certain, they caused lack of power because of the EMP, which caused no phones to work and deadly radiation.

If a nuclear bomb went off, it was a ‘no win’, catch twenty-two situation. I either stayed in that hole and died, or left and died.

No matter what choice I made, radiation would harm me. Either way I was screwed, and probably dead.

Four – Jenga

My sister joked about my packing abilities. I didn’t pack like a survivalist, I packed like a thrifty mom taking her kids on a long flight. Of course, I was… sans the kids. In the end, it was the same difference.

My carry on backpack was my survival bag for the flights on the no frills airline. It was one of those that charged you for everything. Four dollars for coffee and a cookie, two bucks for a bag of chips.

Lindsay said she’d be embarrassed if I pulled out the backpack and rummaged through it for food. I told her jokingly, “Wait until I make myself peanut butter crackers and wash them down with vodka.”

I said that jokingly, but I was never so grateful for my ridiculous snack pack, as I was in that hole.

While I didn’t have the quintessential survival bag, I had stuff to help with my survival.

With no idea how long I’d be there, I rationed immediately.

I had a couple bags of chips, a sleeve of crackers, some fruit snacks, and those individual peanut butter to go packs, some candy, four bottles of water and a quart freezer bag stuffed with airline size bottles of booze.

I didn’t gulp the water, I sipped it.

The first three days, I wanted to drink with urgency, especially when the dust tickled my throat. I’d bring a drink to my mouth, swish it around and slowly swallow it.

It rained on the fifth day, a torrential downpour. I didn’t even realize it rained in California.

I extended my two empty bottles outside that fist size hole and filled them.

I didn’t drink them. Instead I set the bottles aside, still unsure if the air and water were contaminated. I figured I’d use them as a last resort.

It was after that storm that some of the rubble blocking me in grew muddy and soft. At first I used my fingers picking at the mud, then after the first full rock dropped out, I knew I could escape.

Even without a rescue crew, if I could make that fist size hole big enough, I could leave. Granted, digging my way out had crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed that due to my fears of being exposed to radiation.

Radiation be damned, after what I figured was seven days in that tight space, I needed out. I was down to my last bottles of rain water, and a few bites of food.

I turned my body away from the hole and pressed my back against a wall of debris, then started using my feet to kick blocks of rubble outward.

It was my own personal game of Jenga. All it would take was one wrong move to have everything tumble down. The only difference was, it wasn’t a game, and the loss would be my life.

FIVE – BIRTH

Each hour, each minute, I made some progress. With every inch that the hole grew bigger more air flowed into my prison. It carried an odor I couldn’t place. I had to get that opening as wide as my shoulders at the very least. Despite how much wider I made the opening, I still couldn’t see what was beyond the hole. It opened up to what looked like an overcast sky. A dark overcast sky moments before a storm hit, however I saw no clouds.

Only grayness.

It instilled in me a fear that somehow I was high above everything. I vowed not to look out. Simply because I wanted nothing to hinder my determination.

It was days, it had to have been, before finally I believed my escape route was wide enough. I was literally going to crawl out blindly. Unable to see what was before, below or above me I only hoped that all my efforts wouldn’t be in vain and I didn’t fall and break every bone in my body.

My view of the outside was like looking through a window. For the first time in days I extended my upper body out of the hole, trying to gauge and understand what I had to face.

The mound of debris formed a slope, but not a steep one. I couldn’t see where it ended though. It seemed my visibility was limited to only a mere ten feet.

It was enough for me to know I could push out my backpack and then crawl out myself.

Before doing so, I said goodbye to my sister. I had ripped a t-shirt to cover my nose and mouth comfortably and used the other half to cover Lindsay’s hand.

After my brief farewell, I shoved out the backpack and rested it next to the hole, then I began my escape.

It wasn’t as easy as I hoped. My head and shoulders fit through just fine, but the opening grew snug around my hips and without any way to get a real footing, it was a ‘wiggle and inch out’ maneuver. It wasn’t working. It suddenly hit me that while my mind used the analogy that my air pocket of rubble was like a womb, the mound of debris wasn’t giving birth to me and going out head first probably wasn’t the best idea.

It was wiser and safer to emerge breach. It was awkward lifting my legs to that hole, even though it was only about two feet from the floor of my cave. Once my knees had reached the edge of the hole, I rolled over to crawl out belly down.

It was the first time in a while that my legs were completely extended, and they didn’t want to straighten out. Nor did my back, it felt as if I had frozen in a half bent position. My arms were still strong and I used them to push and crawl backward, I found it easier to get my hips through.

My legs, partially bent, dangled and rested against the slope.

Thankfully, the mound wasn’t a straight shot down or my pack would have rolled. It rested not far from where I pushed it out.

Once fully out, I turned to be on my back once again. I slipped some, but was able to stop from falling. My breaths were rapid, I found myself panicking.

I looked down. I couldn’t see anything further than a few feet in front of my shoes. It was like the thickest, darkest fog I had ever seen. I knew it wasn’t fog, it couldn’t be. It inhibited me from seeing what was before me and below me. Grabbing my pack, I placed it over my shoulder and slowly and cautiously crawled down on my back. Standing wasn’t an option, not on that mound and not with my legs and back being so stiff.

There was a red crushed soda can that protruded slightly from the rubble right by my left foot. So inching down until it was next to my eyes, I made a mental note that I had made it about five, five and a half feet. Still no sign of the ground below.

I found my next visual point by my foot, a blue piece of debris, I used it as a reference point. Once I got to it, I knew I had made it another five and a half feet. It became my small goal in getting down. Finding something to focus on, arriving at it and moving on.

I’d look up and couldn’t see where I had come from, nor could I see what was below. I kept count, it was after I hit my eighth goal that visibility opened up enough for me to see the ground. It was still a good twenty feet down. Whatever mist, or fog that blocked me from seeing below me, literally hovered over the area. It was dense and dark.

How did I get so far up there? How did I survive that?

The nearer I got to the bottom, I could see there was water on the ground, like a thin stream. It was easier to see the closer I got to the end of my journey.

Once I hit the bottom, my left foot splashed in the water. It was only about two inches deep. I realized I didn’t have the agility to stand up from my position and I had to turn to my side so I could.

Crammed in a hole for ten days locked my body into some sort of crocked mode. Even with both feet planted firmly on the ground, my knees were slightly bent and my back was at a forty five degree angle as I stared down to the ground. It hurt to move, and I was extremely stiff.

Using my backpack, I placed it on the mound, faced it, and with both hands on the pack, I slowly pushed myself to a better upright position. I was still hunched, but not as bad. I shouldered the pack and turned around to see what was before me.

Somewhere in my mind, in my fantasy, I expected to see rescue workers. My emergence would be victorious and perhaps I’d shout out, “Hey! Over here!”

Their shocked faces would reflect their surprise that I had survived. People would rush to my aid, give me water to quench my thirst, a blanket for warmth and help me with walking.

It was a fantasy, an unrealized dream. Instead I emerged into a nightmare world, my deepest fears come true.

There were no people, no workers, no recognizable landmarks or structures. It was a gray area reduced to sticks and stones, and even though it wasn’t very far, for as far as I could see there was nothing but mounds of rubble.

SIX – DELTA

Not only was I in an unfamiliar city, I was also in a state that I have never visited before in my life, three thousand miles from home. I wouldn’t have a clue where I was even if the city hadn’t crumbled.

Whatever it was that happened was bigger than even I originally thought. No one had been through the area to look. The mounds of debris were all that remained of the airport and roadways.

I had to get my bearings. There was no sun to look up to, the gray skies blocked that. I had to find a way out of the disaster zone. No one was looking for me.

The water moved across my feet soaking into my shoes making my socks and feet wet. I looked all around. I remembered seeing the city skyline when Lindsay’s husband dropped us off at the airport. I moved through the rubble, away from the mound I had just descended from. As I cleared it I saw that most of it was a roadway. The road had lifted and acted like a bulldozer, bringing everything with it as it moved, pushing until it formed a huge mountain of debris.

Finally, I had cleared enough of the rubble to get a good view, trying to make heads or tails of where I was.

Twisted metal, the remains of the tram rail wrapped around blocks of debris like a ribbon around a present. The water reached my ankles and as it did, I caught a glimpse of the city skyline across the bay.

Or what was left of it.

Even with the overcast sky, I could see it was crippled, only one or two buildings remained partially standing.

The city was gone, I couldn’t head there, but it did give me direction.

I had to walk away from it, which was east.

Turning to go east my weakened legs gave way and I tumbled into the water. I didn’t even know if I was hurt. The water felt good against my skin. My flesh was parched and needed every splash of that liquid. The positive thing was that for an instant I didn’t feel gross. I could only image what I looked like, or smelled like.

My fall told me I was weak and I needed assistance if I was going to make it any distance. I searched diligently and found a piece of metal about three feet long. It was heavy but it would serve its purpose as a walking stick.

After stumbling to stand, I walked slowly with my back to the skyline.

The further I moved from the mound of debris that served as my entombment the better I assessed what was going on.

Cars were everywhere, upside down and piled on top of each other. Had I reached the parking lot of the airport? Was that why I was seeing so many cars? It also explained why I hadn’t seen any bodies. Surely with all the destruction, there’d be bodies. I could smell them. I just couldn’t see them.

Not far, or long into my walk the sky darkened causing me to look at my watch. It was only two in the afternoon, yet it felt and looked like night was coming. I soon discovered there was some sort of freak storm brewing.

The sky above me swirled with threatening black clouds and flashes of lightening shot through them.

I was out in the open and needed to find shelter. Maybe one of the cars would serve as protection, I just needed to find an accessible one. Just when that thought hit me, as I searched for a viable car, a plane came into view. It was somewhat in the distance and lay on top of smashed cars.

The nearer I drew to it I saw the wings were off and the body was dented as its belly lay near to the ground.

Apparently, like the tram, it had been thrown and rolled.

The plane was tilted with one door open. I focused on that. My destination.

Blasting sounds of thunder unlike anything I ever heard caused my ears to ring and the ground to tremble. It had gotten darker in a snap of my fingers and the plane was illuminated ominously during the continuous flashes of lightening.

Whether getting in a metal tube was smart or not, it was my only option. I needed shelter from the storm that was moments away from striking.

It looked easier than it was in reality.

Even with the door of the plane open, it was still too high for me. Thankfully, the plane had rolled on top of smashed cars. After getting my back pack inside, I used the cars as a ladder to climb inside.

The plane was tilted, giving the interior a sloped effect. The second I entered I caught a whiff of an all too familiar smell. One I had lived with for days.

Death.

The seats were empty, and I didn’t see bodies. The smell came from somewhere. Where?

I had entered through what I assumed was the door between coach and first class. I looked to my right then left, it seemed like the plane was empty. Then again, the interior was dark. Even though I believed I had acquired great night vision, I needed light, no I wanted it. I was tired of not seeing anything. There had to be a flashlight somewhere. Deciding that I would search the galley or go near the cockpit, I made my way up the slanted aisle of first class. It wasn’t too hard to walk, as long as I held onto the seats. I figured it was first class because it was the front of the plane, the seats were bigger, but it wasn’t as luxurious as my mind imagined it would be. Bagged blankets and tiny pillows were on the floor along with tiny bottles of water.

Still, no bodies, no people.

But something was in there and it was dead. I knew the smell. It burned my nostrils, and I kept my t-shirt kerchief over my nose and mouth. After setting my backpack on a seat, I believed I knew where the smell came from. With each step, it grew stronger. I crossed the small doorway which led to the galley. It was impossible to even walk. Metal carts, cases of water, and other packed items were everywhere. It was evident it was a free for all for stock when the plane rolled. Standing there, looking over the pile of items, I spotted the small open latch door on the side of the galley. It wasn’t big, like a cabinet, but clearly I could see items secured against that door. Two of which were a pair of flashlights in brackets.

Bingo.

I began my climb around the items that rolled against the left side of the plane where I not only discovered the flashlights, I discovered the source of the smell.

The flight attendants must have been preparing the plane when it all happened. They were buried beneath carts, stock and boxes. Limbs and arms extended out from the interior wreckage. I could make out a face partially. How many were there?

I inched through a bit more, extended my reach and grabbed one of the flashlights. Upon turning it on, I discovered the walls were splattered with blood. The limbs that I saw had already started to decompose badly. I wanted to vomit, I really did. But I didn’t.

I felt horrible for them, they had bounced around the cabin. Had they died instantly? Did they suffer? I just wanted to grab some water and get out, find someplace else, but then it started to rain. Another one of those torrential downpours, it sounded like buckets of water hitting the metal of the plane.

Leaving at this moment wasn’t an option.

I was stuck and had to make do.

Seven – Of Respect and Survival

If I was going to make it home to my husband and children, I knew several things had to occur. One of which was getting out of the disaster zone. In order to do so I had to have my strength, be safe and be able to survive. I wasn’t sure where help was. It was out there somewhere. Apparently the city was abandoned. Perhaps it was a volatile and dangerous area. Maybe the storms kept rescue crews away. Whatever the case, they weren’t searching, or looking for me, I had to find them and I didn’t have a clue how near or far they were.

My worst-case scenario thought was the event that happened was so big, no help could possibly get to our area yet.

I had to find them if I wanted to survive.

Lord knew how long that could take.

At least it wasn’t the end of the world, or so I believed.

I felt a sense of guilt about that plane, like I was robbing a graveyard. In a way I was. It was the resting place of what I determined was three of the flight crew. The plane was a wealth of everything I could use.

Before I touched or took anything, I used those red airplane blankets and covered those who were killed. Then I said a prayer.

I must have used half a case of water to clean myself up, and it took me awhile.

The flight attendants had brought their luggage onboard and I borrowed one bag so I could carry my supplies that I had gathered. Borrowed was a loose term, there was no giving it back. It belonged to an attendant named, Amber. I was able to locate her among the bodies. If I was going to take her luggage it was the least I could. Find her, know who she was. I managed to remove her name tag, her wedding ring and watch. I placed those in a small bag and put them in the luggage for when I arrived at a help center and found her family. I wanted to thank them for what she had done posthumously for me. I borrowed some clothes, because after I cleaned up, I discovered the ones in my backpack had collected the scent of death from my tiny haven where I spent ten days.

I used her hairbrush to get the knots and other disgusting stuff from my hair and her pair of good tennis shoes that were only slightly too big, but better than the slip on ones I wore. Kicking my way out of that hole took its toll on my shoes.

I found myself spending an hour smelling the hand lotions and other toiletries just to have a scent in my nostrils that wasn’t one of rotting and death. They weren’t survival items, but dousing them on a cloth near my face masked some of the decomposition smells, plus being clean and feeling fresh gave me a little bit more strength, rejuvenating me.

Amber, in a sense was a part of my journey out of the ruins.

I scavenged the entire plane. I had nothing but time to kill and I went through it all. At least the items I could reach.

The best find was the compass that was in the emergency cabinet with the flashlights. There were items in there for survival. I supposed it was in case the plane crashed somewhere like in the television series ‘Lost’.

The matches, the water, the tiny bottles of booze that could also be sanitizers, first aid kits, crackers and snacks boxes, along with anything else I deemed I would need, for wherever reason, I hoarded and packed.

That small carry on suitcase was packed full to bursting. I found another backpack and stocked that, too.

The storm raged on for most of the night. Each time I looked out the open door, I noticed the water was deeper.

After taking what I could and since it was far from the bodies, I made myself comfortable in the back of the plane with a notebook and a couple pens I found in the galley.

I was starving and I dined on two of those snack boxes. Salami, hummus, crackers and olives. I washed them down with two bottles of water and a couple airline size peach schnapps. A really bad combination.

I threw up.

It was too much, too fast, and I resigned myself that at least for a little bit, I would need to nibble.

I started on a fresh page of that notebook, leaving the previous notes in there and oddly, I put in the two pictures that Amber had in her suitcase. Amber was beautiful, in her mid thirties with dark blonde hair. Her perfect smile in each picture showed how happy she was in her life. One photo was of her and a man I assumed was her husband. The other was Amber with two blonde haired children, no older than four and five. A boy and a girl. Like I had. It was sad to think they’d grow up without their mom. She reminded me so much of Kate Lee, a single mom who lived in apartment 217 at our complex.

Kate was a great mom, worked hard. Sometimes she was late on rent. I covered for her a lot, because I knew she’d eventually pay me back.

She always did.

I wrote down my thoughts, my short goals, where I’d go, what I needed to find, along with a few thoughts on what I had been through. I didn’t write for long because I didn’t know how long the batteries would last in the flashlight. I needed the flashlights. After about fifteen minutes, I shut off the light and resigned myself to spending the rest of the night in the dark. My only brightness was the flashes of lightening.

Surprisingly, I felt safe, I really did, and comfortable. It was a long time since I had felt comfortable.

My back and legs still hurt and curling up helped. I made a pseudo bed in the last row of the plane, a couple small pillows behind my head and a blanket over me. I lay there in the dark thinking of my family, praying that they were okay and maybe they knew I was as well.

It wouldn’t be long until we were all together and I was home safe.

It would happen.

I just had to get to them. I vowed, then and there, nothing would stop me until I did.

Notebook – Day Eleven

Dear Davis,

This is my first night outside the hole. The eleventh day since the world lost color. I found a place to sleep for the night in a plane. I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, or if this notebook will make it home. I am writing to you first because you are my best friend. I’m scared. Scared I’ll never get out of here, out of this city and state. There’s so much destruction. Where are the rescue workers? A flight attendant named Amber has helped me out. Sadly, she has done so posthumously. I just need to thank her. If you look on the previous page I did. I’m making a list of all those who help in one way, or another. Hopefully that list will be short because I will be out of here soon.

Lace

EIGHT – Crossing

Was I that injured, that sick, that I would sleep that soundly and long sprawled across three hard plane seats that slanted downward?

I did and I also dreamed.

I dreamed of Lindsay and that stupid song she played in the car on the way to the airport. She was so excited about the trip.

“Come on, Lace, sing. You know this song.”

Was she joking? Me sing? She got enough of me singing when I was younger and we both submerged our worlds into that teen idol music.

She was singing, but we weren’t in the car in my dream, we were on that tram.

Why was she singing? Everyone around us in that dream was panicking and scared, sniffling and crying. Lindsay just sang.

In the dream I saw the huge cloud of smoke and debris rolling towards us. The second it impacted I woke up.

Sitting up in my makeshift bed, I caught my bearings and looked at my watch. I had been sleeping for ten hours. I was afraid to move again as an ache filled my body. It was the first time since being in the tram that I dreamed of the impact.

What was it?

Earthquakes first, then a wall of gray clouds rolling at us with a force that knocked down everything in its path.

I went through my mind trying to imagine what kind of event would cause it? I just didn’t know.

All I knew was I was in a destroyed area left and forgotten about, and I had to get out without any help.

It didn’t cross my mind that whatever occurred was global, it couldn’t be.

I gathered my things, shoved the blanket and a pillow in my bag and after a bottle of water, decided it was time to leave.

The plane was warm, in fact it was the first time I felt warm in days. I didn’t understand it, the skies were still gloomy and dark, and the sun wasn’t even partially visible. How could it be warm?

I lowered my small suitcase and backpack from the plane door, then the metal rod that I would use as my walking stick. Afterwards I climbed down standing on the crushed cars.

The rain had added even more water to the ground, only it caused some sort of cleansing and the water didn’t run clear, it was murky and thick.

I didn’t want my things to get wet, so I was careful with them as I finally reached the ground.

The water wasn’t deep, but it was slushy, and the ground hidden below it was uneven. I had to move slowly.

I attributed all the water to the humid and muggy feeling. Even though it wasn’t hot the air was thick and heavy.

The compass led me east and I followed that direction. I would head for the mountains, they had to be safe. Although, I couldn’t see them in the distance, I knew they were there.

I moved through a disaster zone obstacle course. That was what it was like. The pavements lifted, some twisted upward like giant walls. Railway tracks embedded into the ground and cars were everywhere, crushed and piled on top of each other.

I kept looking back to the plane, trying to gauge how far I walked. After about a hundred feet, the watery mud stopped. About the same distance, the area dotted with monuments of debris turned into small hillsides of rubble and dirt. Ones I couldn’t go around, I had to climb over. I could tell by the remains that it was a highway, the slabs of concrete, the occasional yellow paint and the cars.

The mounds caused me to reflect back to ninth grade science and the videos of how the Grand Canyon was formed. Watching the videos, seeing how the earth was pushed by a force of nature. The mounds of rubble and dirt that were on the outskirts of the airport looked shoved. As if the hand of God just pushed everything back like a plow.

Something, some tremendous force happened west of where I was.

On the third, last and largest mound, a huge metal pole protruded like a flagpole, part of it held the sign for the international airport.

I hadn’t made it far, but it took me a while with the climbing and I decided to take a break. My legs were sore, my back hurt and my hand was blistered from gripping my metal pole walking stick.

At that moment, looking out, I felt relief.

Behind me the airport was reduced to sticks, pieces of rocks, smashed and moved. Before me, I saw recognizable building shapes and even a few palm trees survived. While some buildings were smashed to piles of rubble, some remained.

While the overcast and gray fog blocked a clear vision, I felt since some buildings survived, people must have too. My journey ahead wouldn’t be as hard.

After a break, I made my way down that mound, sliding occasionally as I lugged my small suitcase and backpack. When I stepped to the ground at the bottom, I noticed a thin amount of ash. It reminded me of dark and dirty snow. A thin layer of ash covered every single thing that along with the gray sky everything seemed to blend in.

The air was still muggy, and even though my mouth and nose were still covered by a cloth, I could smell the familiar odor of death. Actually it was pretty strong.

I didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

Soon, I believed, the fog would thin enough for me to see people. At that moment, all I saw was the Hilton sign laying on the ground. The hotel was still intact and so was the oil change shop across the street. The oil change place was closer so I made my way there.

There were no windows, every bit of glass was shattered and I walked inside. Chairs were tossed about and the counter had collapsed and lay sideways.

I didn’t hear anyone. I didn’t see anyone, but I saw a phone.

It dangled from the broken counter and the receiver was on the floor.

A landline.

My cell was dead, but I knew landlines didn’t need power. I grabbed the base and followed the line to make sure it was still plugged into the wall.

After a few times of hitting the handset, I got a dial tone and I whimpered out in relief. My friends made fun of me for still having a landline at home, but at that second I was grateful for it. I dialed my home number.

It made a weird clicking sound then a whistle like tone. I pulled the phone from my ear.

No. My home was three thousand miles away. Nothing could have happened there. It hit me, I actually didn’t have a real landline, it was one connected to my cable service. Even there, was the cable out?

The only other person I knew that had a landline and a real old fashioned one was my mother in Ohio. I knew her number and dialed it.

It rang.

Hearing that ring told me not all was dead in the world. That it was a fluke I couldn’t reach my home.

Two rings.

Three.

“Hello.”

My mother answered the phone. She didn’t sound good. She sounded weak and worried.

I could barely speak. It had been days since I spoke a word and coupled with my emotions, I choked as I said her name. “Mom.”

She didn’t say anything at first, she made a sound, a cry out, a scream maybe.

“Mom.”

“Oh my God, Lacey,” she said. “Oh my God.”

She was surprised, grateful even, to hear from me. That had to be it.

“Mom. I’m alive. I’m scared and stuck. No one’s around. I need help.”

“Lace, everyone…”

Nothing.

“Mom?”

I couldn’t hear her. Everyone what?

Her voice returned. But the connection was bad. I couldn’t make out what she was saying. It sounded like random syllables.

“Mom, listen. I can’t hear you. Listen, I am alive. Tell the kids and Davis I love them and I am gonna find help. I’ll be home. Mom… Mom if you heard me, press any button on the phone.”

After a beat, I heard a tone.

I sighed out. “I love you. I’ll be home. I’ll find help. If you can get a hold of someone, anyone, I’m outside the airport.”

Another tone, this one pressed repeatedly.

She heard me. That’s all I needed.

“I love you.”

I swore I heard her say, “love.” After, she hit another tone.

I stayed there, holding that phone until I knew we were no longer connected.

Everything was fine back home. I just had to get there. It was going to be easier now, my mother would call for help. I just had to wait it out.

Stepping out of that shop, I was pelted with the rotten egg meets ammonia smell. I had a bottle of Amber’s cologne in the front pocket of the suitcase, I grabbed it, held my breath, took off my face cloth and gave a pump of cologne to the cloth. I had done so before I left the plane, but it had worn off some.

I moved forward, examining the ground for tread tracks that maybe people had left. There were no tracks. Cars were scattered about, some wrecked, some had doors open, all were covered in a smeared muddy looking substance as if when it rained whatever covered the cars tried to wash off, but instead turned into mud.

The covering was either really thick, or it didn’t rain hard in that area. It was possible, I had walked at least a good mile. In Ohio and West Virginia it wasn’t uncommon to get rain or snow, while the neighborhood down the road got nothing.

Walking across the street, I set my sights on the Hilton, maybe people were hiding out in there. As I passed a car, I bumped into its open door.

I didn’t mean to look inside, I wished I hadn’t.

Immediately, the smell of decay cut through my perfume tainted facecloth and made my eyes water. The smell would have made me throw up had the contents of the car not done it first.

The bodies of a man and woman were in the front seats. Unlike the flight attendants, they didn’t show signs of injury. Their bodies were black from decomposing, both of their heads tilted back with their eyes and mouths wide open. A vile black substance leaked from the man’s bloated body and down the side of the driver’s seat.

I spun from the sight, flung off my face covering and every bit of water I drank splashed out of my mouth.

The retching and gagging didn’t stop, even after nothing came out. Using the back of my hand, I focused on controlling my saliva glands, calming my gag reflexes and catching my breath.

I lifted the cloth, turned and looked at another car.

With a swipe of my hand, I cleared the back window and screamed.

Children.

No, young children, possibly toddlers strapped in car seats. Their little bodies black and bloated as their open mouths appeared to be gasping for air.

I don’t know what possessed me. In a frantic state, I walked by every car, wiping a window, looking in.

Every car had bodies.

I wanted to scream. In fact, I did scream, a gurgling scream that didn’t echo in the dead town but was absorbed into the thick air.

Grabbing my suitcase, backpack over my shoulder I ran for the Hilton. There were cars in the driveway. Even though I didn’t want to look, even though I tried not to, I still saw the bodies in the cars.

Running as fast as I could, I made it up the driveway and to the front doors. The glass was shattered and there was a car smashed through one of the huge lobby windows.

One step, that was all I took and I knew the Hilton wasn’t any different.

Inside the lobby the dead were everywhere. Men, women and children, overlapped, they looked as if they just died where they stood. The front desk agents were dead on the registration counter.

I couldn’t breathe. Hyperventilating, I fought to catch my breath. Before I had even stopped wheezing, I ran back out of there, down the driveway and back to the street.

There was no sound, not even the buzzing of flies.

Where were the insects with all the decaying bodies?

Once I hit the road, I lost it. I dropped my suitcase and backpack then I fell to my knees.

What had happened?

I felt abandoned, lost and helpless. I didn’t know what to do. At that moment, all I could do was fall in the street and cry.

NINE – SLUMBER

I tried to reach my mother again but was unsuccessful. It didn’t even ring, just that same weird tone I got when I called my own home. I started to doubt my own sanity. Had I even talked to her? Did I imagine it? Every phone I lifted, the same thing happened, so I went into a couple of businesses and tried again.

The mountains were my focus now and I wanted to get there. I believed it was a good destination and maybe authorities and workers were set up outside of town.

I grabbed a map from a Quik Stop gas station just a few blocks into my walk and planned my journey. One road would take me straight toward the mountain. It wasn’t a highway. Those were impassible and the ones with any overpasses had fallen. From what I gauged, the mountains were about six miles away. Not far at all. There also looked like there was a small community just at the base of the mountain and another on the other side. That road though would be a bitch to walk.

What was I thinking? Not an hour into my walk, my legs started to hurt and so did my back. I felt weak and the mugginess of the air made it hard to breathe. That was the physical side of it, emotionally, I felt worse.

With the gray overcast look to everything, it felt like gloom and doom with every step.

The quakes apparently didn’t spare the area. If a building wasn’t made of a solid frame that had some give and shook with the quake, the structure was reduced to fragments of stone and brick. The traffic still lined the road, cars full of families trying to get out.

When did this happen? How long were they in their cars, or in towns before they decided they had to go?

I saw an old man laying in the middle of the road, dead, his hand still holding a plastic grocery store bag. Canned goods spilled around him.

The city wasn’t brought down by the earthquake or that destruction cloud, something else happened.

With each step I thought back to that day.

The tremors, the hard shakes, flickering of power.

It had to take about fifteen minutes, maybe more, to get from the gate to inside that moving tram.

Surely, whatever knocked the tram from the tracks and tossed me into a mound of rubble wasn’t the same thing that hit the east side of the city.

They had time to get in their cars and try to flee. They had time to gather in hotel lobbies and loot stores for supplies.

Was there an evacuation order? I didn’t see one military truck, only police cars.

It was a mystery to me that I wish I could solve by picking up my phone and looking online.

But those types of instant answers were gone.

Another two hours into my walking, which I determined was only two miles, I hit more of a residential area. There was less traffic on the street and I figured if I could find a car, I could get out of the area faster.

I had left that plane just before noon and as it pushed four PM, the skies darkened as if nightfall was only minutes away.

It was getting harder to see and I didn’t want to waste my flashlight. I could have been smart and found another flashlight somewhere, but in my mind help wasn’t that far away. I just had to get there.

I passed a house with a white car in the driveway, the trunk was open and a man lay outside the driver’s door. Apprehensively, I approached, afraid to look inside, hating to see even more bodies. There was no getting used to it, each body struck an emotional chord within me.

No one was in the car, I sighed out in relief and saw the keys were clutched in the man’s rotting hand.

Again, I wasn’t a survival guru. I wasn’t. I knew enough however that if some sort of power surge hit, like an EMP, then things wouldn’t work. My phone went dead and I was unable to power it up again.

Whatever hit my phone, had to have hit before those in the east side of town decided to pull an exodus. The lights went before that. So how were the cars running… unless they weren’t running when it hit? For the most part, I was just guessing what happened.

For all I knew a nuclear weapon, or two, exploded and I was a walking corpse by absorbing radiation into my body. Perhaps I was facing nothing but a slow and painful death.

I had to try. At least drive to where I could stop somewhere safe until daylight.

The man in the driveway was getting ready to leave, that was evident. Placing down my bags, I bent down to his body and holding my breath, I reached for his hand. The second I uncurled his fingers, they pulled from his hand connected only by a thin strand of glue like fluid.

My gut filled with nerves along with hope that the car would start. As soon as I placed the key in the ignition and heard the ‘ding’ of the bell, I knew it would work.

I started the car and checked the gas gauge. Half a tank, it would get me at least over that mountain should there not be any help at the edge of town. Either way, the end of town, the bottom of the mountain was my stopping point for the day. Taking that mountain road wouldn’t work, without electricity it would be far too dark and dangerous. It was already getting too dark to see clearly.

Car running, I loaded my suitcase and backpack into the car, walked to the back and reached for the trunk. He had loaded that up with items. I didn’t have time to check them, but I did see a sleeping bag and I grabbed that. After closing the trunk, I walked to the man, undid the sleeping bag and covered him.

It was crazy and under normal circumstances people would have thought me insane. I got in the car and opened up the glove compartment. It was hard to see, so I grabbed the bunch of papers from in there and rummaged through them. There were receipts from fast food, gas stations, one was a furniture rental receipt, another a phone plan agreement for a phone he just bought two weeks earlier and finally, his registration. James Herron.

His name was James.

I stepped from the car and stood above him.

“Thank you, James,” I said. “Thank you so much.”

Oddly, two people in their death unknowingly helped me to live. They provided the means for me to move forward, I would remember them and be grateful to them always.

Two people in a city of the dead.

Something inside told me that they would not be the last.

I hoped that they would and that my journey for help would be short.

I replaced all James’ glove box contents, shut the car door and pulled out of the driveway.

The drive was short, there was a lot of zig zagging around traffic and debris, and a couple of times I had to turn down roads to go around rubble. The night fell quickly and I reached the edge of town just as it turned pitch black.

There were no bonfires, no tents set up or FEMA crews, nothing.

Silence and darkness. The temperature dropped and once again, strange lightening ripped through the clouds overhead. It didn’t feel or smell like rain like it had before, but I didn’t want to take a chance.

At the end of the road, just before the highway began, I spotted a fire station. The garage doors were wide open, there were no fire trucks in there. There was however a blue pickup truck parked off to the side.

The truck was empty. It probably belonged to one of the firemen. I pulled inside the station, into the garage and turned off the car.

There I would make a small camp for the night.

I did try the phones in there, again nothing.

I was still working on the bistro snack pack. That was my meal. I wasn’t hungry for any more. I was more anxious to get home, to get in touch with my family. I wrote a little in my notebook, adding James’ name and what I got from him.

Then I sat in the dark, the floor was my bed. I made a makeshift mattress out of coats that I found in the station. I had my airline blankets and pillow, and I lay there in the silence until I eventually fell asleep.

Notebook – Day Twelve

Janabel,

I know you hate being called that. But I started to think back to when you were eight. When you liked being called that. What made me think of that? Your third grade field trip to the fire station. You loved the trucks and the pole.

You will never guess where I am sleeping tonight. In a fire station. About this point in time, if we had phones, you and I would be texting non-stop.

My buddy.

I miss you, honey. I hope you are strong for Daddy and Evan. They need you. I also hope you know in your heart that I am trying to get home. I’m trying sweetie. It will just take time. I know Grandma told you I called. At least I hope she was able to. I could have imagined it. Sometimes I think I did.

I love you with all of my heart and miss you so much.

Mom

TEN – Engage

La Fluff was the name of the dog I had since I was five years old. My parents got him as a family pet and I won the luck of the draw to name him. Of course, after I matured a little, I realized La Fluff wasn’t the coolest name. At least it matched his appearance. He was always shaggy.

One thing, La Fluff did without fail was grab my foot and bite it when it was time to get up for school. Something my mother had taught him.

He’d pull at my toes unless I was wearing socks. Always a struggle and fight with my foot.

My whole life I stayed up late and slept even later. Every day it was the same thing. My dog waking me up, pulling my feet as my mother yelled in the distance.

“Lacey Annabelle Budziszewisky, get up!”

Yeah. I had a long name. Thank God I married a man with the last name Kale.

My whole life the kids called me beer wench. My last name for some reason reminded them of a beer. At least my married name was a vegetable.

My mother called my name in my dream, then added, ‘Please be alive’ as La Fluff pulled and bit my foot.

I am alive, I thought in my dream. I called you.

“Please be alive.”

My foot moved.

Then I realized my foot wasn’t just moving in my dream, something was pushing on it.

“Please be alive,” the woman’s voice said.

It was a voice.

I opened my eyes and immediately sat up.

“Oh, good.” She grabbed her chest. “You are.”

I blinked trying to get her in focus. Who was she? A woman stood at the end of my makeshift bed staring down at me. She wasn’t a girl, she was a woman, but at that moment her age was hard to tell. Her thick bushy brown hair rested just below her shoulder blades. It was slightly unruly and she tucked one side behind her ear. Her face was full, round and clean, and her thick build body was somewhat camouflaged beneath the baggy 80s rock band t-shirt.

“I was hoping you were all right,” she said. “I really didn’t think you were dead, but I didn’t want to assume, so I waited. I thought maybe it was my imagination that you were breathing. Lord knows I have seen and heard a lot of things that weren’t there. Being alone does that. I was watching you for a while. Not like a stalker, or someone that was gonna rob you and kill you. Just waiting. You know?” She pulled a chair close and a few empty airline bottles rolled. She grabbed a couple empties from the floor as she sat down. “Someone had quite the party last night.”

“I was bored. It was hard to sleep.” I cleared my throat. “I have a stash.” I pointed to my backpack that rested near her against the wall.

She reached for the open pack, peered in, then whistled. “That’s a lot of airline booze. Are you an alcoholic?”

“No. I saw them. I took them. I don’t know why I grabbed so many…” With a grunt, I sat up. “I’m sorry. Are you… are you with the National Guard, FEMA, or the rescue people?”

She chuckled. “No. Hardly. I haven’t seen any rescue people.” She laughed. “In fact, I haven’t seen any people since the choke.”

“The Choke?”

“That’s what I’m calling it. It will catch on. Watch.” She stood and after stepping over me, walked to the far wall, pointing at a rack of radios. “Have you tried any of these? Tried to reach someone? They may work. If we find batteries.” She lifted one.

“Wait.” I staggered to a stand. “You really aren’t a rescue person?”

“Do I look like a rescue person?”

“No.”

“So, why would you ask?’

“We’re in the middle of all this,” I said. “I just…” I paused and extended my hand. “I’m Lacey. Who are you?”

“I’m Madison.” She shook my hand. “And unless you and I find someone, or talk to someone…” She lifted the radio. “I’m gonna say I am pretty sure you and I are the last two people in the world, or at least…” She set down the radio. “In the state of California.”

ELEVEN – Stories

Madison Hollister, that was her married name, described herself as a woman with Italian and Irish blood, she loved to feed people but watch out for her temper. I didn’t see it. How could this woman who seemed so nice and optimistic, despite everything, have a bad temper? Then again, I was meeting and getting to know her under some pretty dire circumstances.

After I gathered my things, we shared a meal in the firehouse. A meager meal, but neither of us really seemed to need any more. I rightfully assumed she was going to join me as I looked for help. I was glad to have her and grateful for not being alone.

She offered me granola as she said, “We can save those little snack pack boxes for later. But

you have to eat. We should get a move on, daylight lasts about six hours unless you haven’t noticed. Walking is tough when you’re hungry, too.”

“I have a car.”

“Yeah, well, so did I,” she said. “A car, a bike, a car again. You can only go so far then you have to walk. Just the way the cookie crumbles, or rather the world. Lots of walking. That’s why never grab more than you can carry. Don’t I just sound like the wizard of wisdom?” She smiled. “I’m new to this survival stuff. I never even camped. Not really good at this living tough stuff.”

“What did you do for a living?” I asked.

“Prior to kids… I worked at Sears, now I’m a stay at home mom.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit for living tough. That’s a hard job.”

“Yeah, yeah it was.

“Where are you from?”

“My home is in Indiana,” she said. “I’m trying to get there, hoping my husband and boys are still alive.”

I looked at her curiously. “Why home? We just really need to get help right?”

Madison laughed subtly and stood. She grabbed remaining items and placed them in the car. With a serious expression she looked at me, while her fingers oddly rubbed a locket she wore around her neck. “There’s no help out there, Lace. None.”

She wasted no time getting in the car. Barely had I eked out a, “what?” and she was in my car waiting to go.

I got in, pulled out of the station and we began to drive. Madison stared out the window for the first couple blocks, obviously in deep thought.

Then she exhaled and looked at me. “Where are you from?”

“West Virginia.”

“So we’re both in foreign land then, so to speak.”

“You can say that.”

“Tell me why you are so convinced there’s help out there?”

“There has to be, right?” I said. “I mean, it makes sense.”

As we drove toward the mountain road, I told her my story. How I ended up in California, and was leaving when everything happened. How I was trapped for ten days in that air pocket.

“Then you don’t know what happened,” she said.

“No, do you?”

Madison shook her head. “Not really. It would be an educated guess, and really not that educated. You know, like when you know you are sick and have something and you go on line and put your symptoms in, and a whole bunch of different things pop up?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“Well, I can give you all the symptoms I saw, but it matches a dozen things. So instead of WebMD, it would be like DisasterMD.”

“Is that why you are convinced there are no rescue stations or help?”

“That and…”

It was the second time it happened. Mid conversation we had to stop. I didn’t get to hear why at that moment, because just at the crest of the mountain road, we had to stop. Our pathway was blocked.

Two cars and a truck, all smashed, blocked the lanes. A trail of rocks scattered around them and the shoulder of the road had crumbled in some sort of landslide.

“This happens a lot,” Madison said and opened the door. “Get so far and something blocks the way. We’ll find another car.” She got out and immediately began taking things from the car. “At least it’s not hot.” She peered up. “Will you look at that sky.”

I did, it was gray and thick.

“It’s not even like an overcast day,” she said. “It’s like a big thick cloud of smoke is hovering.” She lifted her hand. “It’s almost like if I stand on tip toes I can touch it.”

Madison was right. It hovered over us, close, too. Probably because we were at a higher altitude. I shouldered my bag and grabbed my suitcase. “Guess it’s time to walk,” I said.

“You’ll get used to it. At least it’s all downhill from here, right?”

I followed as she began a slow paced walk. “The map shows a town at the bottom of this road. Maybe there will be someone there, or help?”

She shook her head. “There you go with that help thing again.”

“Why are you so quick to dismiss that thought?”

Madison stopped and looked at me. “Because I traveled over two hundred miles in the last ten days and you are the first, and only, person I have seen alive.” She turned back around. “That’s why.” She continued walking.

We moved down that road in near silence, little conversation. Both of us saving our energy. In my mind I imagined looking down on a town and seeing movement, possibly even gloating to Madison about it. However, as soon the town was in view, all hope of finding help was lost.

Longview, California was probably a quaint and lively small town at one time, but it was nothing but gray now.

Immediately I saw that the buildings and other structures had partially crumbled. Cars were scattered everywhere about the roads, pieces of debris were not only on top of them but clumped about on the road. What made it different and grimmer was it was covered with a thin layer of ash. It covered everything like snow.

“Pull up your face covering,” Madison recommended as we walked into town.

The wheels of the suitcase made a crunching noise as it moved over the ash.

Madison paused, bent down and touched the ash. She rolled her fingers together and winced. “Ow. Damn it.” She rubbed her hand on her leg. “Keep your nose covered. This ash has glass in it.”

“Glass?”

“Debris that blew in from somewhere.” She started to stand but paused. “Oh, God.” Her words were laced with an ache.

“What? What is it?”

Madison looked over her shoulder at me. I couldn’t see her facial expression because the cloth covered her nose and mouth. But I could see her eyes and they screamed horror. I peered beyond her wondering what she had seen, but it didn’t take much searching.

Those clumps that were sporadically throughout the streets, the ones covered in ash, they weren’t debris after all, they were bodies.

She closed her eyes. “That one is a child. I can’t look.”

My eyes shifted down and a twitch hit my stomach.

“Let’s go, walk around, something, not through.” She said. “We aren’t finding a useful car here.”

I nodded and followed her lead. “What happened here? I mean, the bodies are covered in an ash.”

“I know.”

“They died before the ash fell. How? How did they all die?”

Madison paused and shook her head. “DisasterMD answer… the choke. I can’t be sure, because I can’t see them.”

“You said that term before, the choke. What are you talking about?”

“It’s… you know what? Let’s just get away from all this debris, and this ash, then I’ll tell you. I promise. Because if you have to ask, you didn’t see it happen.”

Again in keeping with our cliffhanger conversations, Madison said no more, she just kept walking.

I was in complete agreement on getting away from the town. Learning about the choke could wait. We had nothing but time. After seeing Longview, California, not only was my hope of finding rescue crews diminished, I faced the harsh reality that the devastation was a lot bigger than I had even imagined.

TWELVE – Blocked Window

At first, I didn’t understand quite why Madison did it, I thought it was an impulse. She walked right into that building.

Before that we were having a conversation as we walked. Nothing deep because neither one of us wanted to breathe heavily.

Then out of the blue, mid sentence, she stopped.

A lot of things about her made me wonder. She seemed like a solidly good person, and I couldn’t determine whether it was the circumstances that made her act, for lack of a better word, bipolar, or it was just who she was. Now, granted she didn’t go from down to angry or extremely happy. But, like a flip of a switch, Madison went from talkative, to quiet and almost sad.

The sadness, I understood. I fought that myself. I tried to focus forward, getting help or finding my family which ever would come first.

There was no real easy way to get around the small town of Longview. None. While we pushed through what I believed were the outskirts, we were still in the middle of the town. There were still houses that had partially crumbled, cars and bodies in the street. We strolled through and around, slowly through the ash, looking for a new vehicle. Transportation wasn’t our only concern.

Daylight was short.

“How did you know to check and feel the ash?” I asked her.

“My father. He was a fireman and went to New York after the September 11 attacks. He told me. But this amount of ash… it didn’t come from this town.”

I understood what she meant. When the towers fell they alone were probably more concrete than every structure in Long View combined.

“Funny,” Madison said. “That’s how you described the cloud. Like from footage you saw of the Twin Towers falling.”

“It did. Only bigger, it took up the whole sky and it looked like there was lightening in it.”

Madison paused. “And it knocked everything down?”

“Through our tram. What about you?”

“I saw the cloud. It had a force, but it didn’t knock things down, it covered us all and kept on rolling. I suppose losing impact the further it rolled.”

“What was it?”

“I have several theories,” she said. “But I think it definitely came from the north. So… we really should think of heading south.”

“We need to go east, both of us, in order to make it to our families.”

“Lace,” she said my name with an edge to her voice. “They may not… never mind.”

“What? Never mind what?”

Then she stopped. Completely stopped, turned slowly as if she saw something important and stared at the two story red brick building. It had very little damage.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I can carry them,” she whispered. “I only have this one bag.”

“Carry what?”

She ignored my question and walked into the building. Surprisingly, both doors were not shattered, only one, but the building was dark.

Considering the shape the building was in, I figured she found us a good, safe place to stop. Even though I believed she wanted to get farther from town.

I hadn’t paid much attention to what exactly the building was until we stepped in the lobby. Madison lit her flashlight. When she did, I saw it was an assisted living home.

There was ash throughout the lobby, a thin layer that appeared to have blown in.

“This way,” Madison said and turned to walk down a hall. She stopped and looked to her left. “Bet that’s the north end.”

I saw why she deduced that. The entire end of the hall was full of ash. It looked like an avalanche of snow came in, only it was ash and debris. “That way is out,” she turned again. “This way. We need to locate the supply closet. Or a nurses station. Something.”

“Maybe if you tell me what we’re looking for.”

“Oxygen,” she replied. “Four canisters should work, we don’t need it for long just…” her eyes widened. “Oh my God, we need to check these rooms. All of them.”

Immediately, without explaining anything further, she started checking rooms. I watched her check the first two, reacting the same way when she opened the doors. Step in, step out wincing from what could only be the sight and smell.

I began my own quest, understanding completely why she was checking the rooms. These people, next to children, were the most vulnerable and probably forgotten. I didn’t express it, but I doubted we’d find anyone alive. After all, we were so far the only survivors. I doubted those weaker would have made it.

We checked that entire first floor, as far as we could, even getting into the rooms where ash blanketed the hallway.

Every room was the same.

A body. Blackened from decomposition. Many already starting to split. Some people were on the floor, some in bed.

Then we headed to the second floor.

“Madison, I don’t know why…”

“If you don’t want to look, fine,” she said. “I’ll do it myself.”

I tossed out my hand in defeat. “I’ll take the left side.”

I was less optimistic than she was in her search. She opened each door with energy and hope then retracted with defeat. Me, I slowly opened the door, peeked in and moved on.

Until room 216. I opened that door, looked, saw a body on the bed and was going to leave when I realized that body looked different.

It was a man. His skin wasn’t blackened, splitting or rotting, it was pale and pasty with splotches of blue.

He had just died. I wasn’t an expert, but I knew he wasn’t as decomposed as the others. The sight of him shocked me. I stepped out of the room and hollered down the hall. “Madison.”

She faced me. “Did you find someone?”

“This man…” I pointed to the room. “He… he just died. Like maybe a couple days ago.”

“Damn it. I knew it. I’ll be right there.”

After a nod, I walked to the next room. Entering that one a little differently. The door wasn’t secure, it was slightly open and I pushed on it.

There was a wheelchair by the window. The window had been blocked by a mattress. The body in the wheelchair was positioned to look out.

Only it wasn’t a body. It was a woman and just as I was backing out. She slowly turned her head toward me.

“Madison!” I yelled.

THIRTEEN – TWO FLOORS HIGH

I was shocked. Almost to the point I couldn’t move and Madison was frantic with emotions upon us finding a woman named Ruth.

Apologetically, as if it were her fault, Madison held a bottle of water to her lips. “Here you are. I’ll fix your oxygen…”

“How did you know?” I asked.

Madison didn’t answer, she continued with Ruth, crouching down by her wheel chair. “You have to be starving.”

“Don’t fuss. I don’t need the oxygen. I haven’t had it in a week.”

“How did you know?” Again I asked.

“I’m so sorry you had to be here by yourself,” Madison said.

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m ninety-two years old. I’ve seen worse. Been through worse. I think. Just glad you girls found me and if you could…” Ruth dropped her voice to a whisper. “Help me clean up. It’s been… it’s been a while and I’m awfully sore down there.”

Stronger, I repeated my question. “Madison. How did you know?”

“We’ll grab some water,” Madison said. “I’ll clean you up. You know we are gonna need to get out of here. Maybe not today, but tomorrow.”

Ruth laid her hand on Madison’s. “Stevie went to get help. I guess about five days ago. He didn’t come back.”

“Stevie?” Madison asked.

“Oh, nice boy. He was taking care of a couple of us that were left.”

Nearly shrieking in my frustration, I yelled. “Madison, how did you know someone would be alive? Have you been here? Do you know her?”

Madison looked over her shoulder at me. “No. I don’t know her, I just guessed because, because of this…” she lifted the oxygen tubing. “She survived because of this. I survived because I was in the ER on oxygen, thinking I was having a heart attack. You were stuck in what you called an air pocket and that’s probably what it was and that is why you are alive.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“The choke, Lace. I call it the choke, right? You asked what it was. It was this moment, it seemed like an hour, but it was only minutes, maybe even less.” Madison finally stood up. “All the oxygen was gone.”

<><><><>

I was in disbelief over what she said, I wanted to laugh in ridicule, and in fact I think I did. How was that possible? The oxygen was gone? Please. Madison spewed forth her response, then tended to Ruth. She hadn’t spoken about it to me in our travels, whatever she saw, whatever she witnessed haunted her.

Helping Ruth was a therapy of sorts. She wiped her down as best as she could with bottled water and soap. She kept apologizing to Ruth for how cold it was. Ruth was a trooper, she just wanted to get clean. Her legs were bone thin and frail, and her skin was dried out and cracked. After finding her fresh clothes, we wheeled her into an empty room with no bodies or smell.

Ruth was delighted and almost giddy when I gave her one of the bistro snack pack boxes. While she dined on the contents, Madison rubbed lotion on her arms.

“We need you strong to move tomorrow,” Madison said.

“I’m not good at walking, so maybe just leave me behind. Stevie went for help.” She tapped Madison’s hand. “I’ll be fine.”

“No, we’re taking you,” Madison said. “If this Stevie isn’t back tomorrow, we’ll leave a note. We’re…” she looked up at me. “We’re looking for help. We’ll all go together.”

“Madison. How do you think it was possible for the oxygen to leave? I mean it’s back, right?” I asked.

“Maybe not leave per se,” Ruth answered, “that would be disastrous for everything. Did you see that cloud roll in? Stevie said whatever it was, not only knocked things over, it made the air smell and thick. Suffocated everything. He said it was hot when it went into his nostrils.”

“It happened right after the cloud,” Madison said. “Lacey, you said you felt the quakes and then what? Fifteen, twenty minutes the cloud hit?”

I nodded.

“Same here,” Ruth said.

“Not me,” Madison said. “I was south of here, so it took the cloud a little longer. I was visiting my grandmother in the hospital when the quakes hit. I had never felt one. I panicked. I had chest pains and swore I was having a heart attack. I couldn’t breathe. It was all part of the panic attack. I didn’t know. They did, I guess. The plopped me on a gurney, put an oxygen mask on me and stuck me in a corner while they dealt with injuries.”

“So you know what happened?” I asked.

“No one knows what happened,” Madison said. “Lights went out. Phones. Everything. Like an EMP hit. It happened after the quake and before the cloud. I remember it rolled in. A good forty minutes after the quakes. Windows blasted, the ground shook and it got dark, I mean really dark. I was just getting up to check on my grandmother, to go find her, when a nurse came to check on me and mid sentence, she froze. I mean… froze. For a second her eyes widened and…” She paused. “I watched her turn blue, I mean the blue was almost purple, she looked like she gasped and she dropped to the floor. I whipped off my mask and that’s when I realized she suffocated. If I didn’t think I could breathe before that, when I took off my mask the air was thick and hot, like I was drowning. All that commotion in the ER… stopped. Everyone dropped. I clutched that mask to my face and didn’t move.”

“What about others, like you with oxygen on?”

“Unless they were unconscious, people whipped off their masks, or ran to get help. I thought of that, I did,” Madison said. “With no power, I was connected to a little canister and I carried it with me. Anyone I did see, they didn’t have the oxygen on.”

“That’s the first thing you do,” Ruth said, “You feel trapped, connected and tied with the mask on. You pulled it off to move. Unless you know, you can’t.”

“I thought that about my grandmother and ran up to her floor. The debris, the cloud had blasted through the window and she was covered in debris,” Madison said with a whimper. “That’s when I said fuck it… sorry, Ruth.”

Ruth waved her hand in a ‘no worries’ fashion.

“And I took off my mask. I was able to breathe.”

“It was lighter out when the air came back,” Ruth explained. “I mean, still dark but not as dark as when the air left.”

“I can’t explain it,” Madison said. “No one can. And there’s no one around to explain. I looked, I searched that hospital but I could only search for so long. I heard it coming.”

“What?” I asked.

“The wave. The sound of rushing water.” Madison’s eyes gazed out as she spoke. “It looked huge and I just bolted to the stairs. It… ended up not being as high as it looked. Two floors, but enough for me to get scared. I stayed on the higher floors for a few days until the water receded enough for me to leave or at least not worry about another wave. But every time I made it so far, it would rain in some sort of freak storm.”

“How did you get out of the city?” I asked.

“My rental was parked on the fifth floor of the garage. It was actually okay. It wasn’t damaged and the garage survived. Surprisingly. Then again, that car only got me about thirty miles and I had to start walking. I kept on walking.”

I understood Madison a little better, her journey and what she had gone through. It was no wonder she didn’t hold hope that her family was alive, and that with her bags she carried so much sadness. She had seen things I hadn’t.

I also understood why Madison was like she was with Ruth. Apologetic and empathetic. Eager to help her, clean her, make her well. It was almost as if by helping Ruth she was in a way, making up for being unable to help her grandmother.

One thing was certain, while I wasn’t forefront in cleaning Ruth and getting her stronger, Madison and I were on the same page. Wheelchair or not, there was no way we were leaving Ruth behind. We’d bring her with us and make it work. I was willing to bet, even though Ruth was unable to walk, there was a lot of wisdom in her ninety year old mind that would come in handy.

<><><><>

Even though it was just a little past five PM, night had fallen and we hunkered down for the evening in room 213. It had been vacant before anything happened and it was free from any bodies. We made a mattress on the floor so Ruth could lie down, then with nothing else to do but wait and plan, we sat around talking. Ruth told us that initially, after the cloud and the quakes a lot of residents did survive. None of the staff though, except for Stevie. How he managed to get oxygen on remained a mystery. Madison joked that perhaps he was sucking on it as a form of a high. After all he was young.

Ruth explained that he was about twenty, she wasn’t sure. Everyone looked very young to her.

Initially, Stevie left. In search of his family, but they had passed away, and so he returned.

Stevie did all that he could, she said. But with those that remained, a lot suffered injuries in the quake, broken bones and hips that were untreatable under the circumstances. In addition, insulin and any other medication that needed a refrigerator had gone bad, and those individuals died as well.

Eventually it was Ruth, Stevie, and just a couple others.

“After Bernie next-door died,” Ruth said. “Stevie knew he had to go get help. That’s when he went.”

She told us that he had left her water and food, before he took off. It struck me as odd. Why would he do that? Why would he leave her supplies if he was coming back? Unless he was fearful he wouldn’t, or he knew he wouldn’t. In any event it just didn’t make sense that he would stay there after the quake and help her and then just leave without returning. In my mind, and in my heart, something happened to the boy, Stevie. Unfortunately, in a world without phones or people, unless he walked through the door we could very well never know what happened to him.

FOURTEEN – Theoretically Speaking

Every time Ruth took a sip out of the airline bottle of booze, it sounded like her top lip kept getting stuck.

“You okay there?” Madison asked her.

“Yeah, pass me more of those olives, please, thanks.” Ruth reached for them and hiccupped. “Like having a martini in segments.”

I saw Madison’s face. She looked down to the three empties and watched Ruth finish a fourth.

“I don’t usually drink like this,” Ruth said, “I need to relax and this is the first night in awhile I’ve done that. Ever sit alone in the dark? You hear things.”

“What about these candles?” I asked in reference to the ones we had lit. Ruth said Stevie left them for her.

“Oh, I never lit them. I was afraid I’d fall asleep and catch fire,” she said. “Yeah, in the dark, you do a lot of thinking.”

“Why didn’t Stevie bring you all into the same room?” Madison asked. “I don’t understand that.”

“I didn’t want to share a room,” Ruth said. “I like my room, or did. I don’t know why Stevie did what he did. He was young, but he tried.” She looked at Madison. “You never heard what it was? I mean you saw the cloud after each of us.”

“No,” Madison replied. “No news. It all happened so fast. The quakes we got at the same time. I was watching the news and nothing was said when the quakes hit. It’s only guessing. My first guess was a meteor.” She then turned to me. “What about you, Lace? What did you think?”

“Well, when I regained consciousness I thought it was a nuclear war, or the big one. California falling into the ocean. You know all those things we heard could happen.”

“Cascadia fault line,” Ruth said. “Runs right up the coast… could I just have one more?” she asked. “Not like I’ll stand up and it’ll hit me.” She giggled.

I reached into my backpack.

“Boy, you raided that plane.” Ruth smiled. “There was no one alive on it?”

I shook my head. “No. The flight crew had been killed in the quake. No one but them was on the plane.”

Ruth nodded. “Bet me, if lack of breathable air was actually the reason everyone dropped over, there’s a bunch of planes out there that landed with a fuselage full of people.”

“I don’t think,” Madison said. “I mean, there was an EMP of some sort.”

Ruth uncapped her tiny bottle. “I know she was stuck in a hole, but I wasn’t, neither were you. Did you see any planes fall from the sky? Cause they would drop like flies if it was an EMP.”

“No,” Madison answered.

“Neither did I,” Ruth said, “Besides, it depends on how high the EMP is. If a plane is flying above it, it’s safe. I believe. Look at it this way: did the plane that dropped the bomb on Hiroshima fall? Nope. It took a picture. If there aren’t any planes on the ground, they’re out there.”

“Come to think of it,” Madison said. “I haven’t seen any wreckage.”

“If oxygen is the key, there’s lots of people alive. Although,” Ruth shrugged. “I suppose those using oxygen regularly aren’t much use now. Me, they just gave it to me because I’m old. When I saw that cloud coming, I cranked it up.”

“All this ash,” I said. “The gray, the dark skies, no sun. It’s gotta be debris just floating up there.”

“Many things could have caused it. Meteor, like Madison told,” Ruth said. “What goes up comes down. The gray came too fast. And what you girls described…” she pointed to me. “You saw lightening in it. You…” She then pointed to Madison. “Didn’t. You were hundreds of miles south. It lost speed, but I don’t think it was rolling, I think it was spreading. North, south, east… west. I didn’t get a good look, but I swore it had the makings of a pyroclastic cloud.”

What the hell, was the first thought I had. Ruth just rambled off nonchalantly a word that confused me me. Pyroclastic?

Both Madison and I looked at each other when she said it.

“What?” Ruth said. “Because I’m old, I’m ignorant?” She laughed. “I was a professor at Cornell, Earth and Atmospheric Science, for twenty-three years.” She took a sip of her bottle. “Lost a little, I can be ignorant about some things. I mean I’ve been retired nearly thirty years. Some stuff slips. Not this.”

“Okay, wait,” I held up my hand. “What is a pyroclastic cloud?”

“Debris from a volcano, mostly,” Ruth said. “Although, a meteor would cause it and when the towers fell, that created one. But Volcanoes mostly.”

Madison gasped so loudly I swore she would choke. “Yellowstone?”

“Oh, hell no,” Ruth said. “That’s very northeast. But again, girls I’m guessing. Aren’t we all? It could have been nukes, It could have been a meteor, hell…” She finished the bottle. “Something could have hit the moon. It could have been a lot of things. Can I have another?” She extended her hand then stopped. “No, I shouldn’t.”

“What volcano?” I asked.

“Long Valley Caldera,” Ruth answered. “It’s due east of here and would explain why we aren’t buried. It’s big enough, probably set off the Cascadia Fault line. The suffocating, well, that has me leaning toward volcanic eruption. They say one third of all people in Pompeii died of suffocation, died holding their mouths, covering their heads. Instant death, sort of. Three breaths. Their first breath coated the lungs with a chemical ash that made like a concrete mixture in the lungs. Second breath thickened it. Third… sealed the airways. Death. I saw the bodies, I was there. Not in 79AD, mind you, I’m not that old, but on an expedition,” she exhaled. “And… there is a chance we may never know.”

“So it wasn’t Yellowstone?” Madison asked.

“Nah,” Ruth tapped Madison’s hand. “However, if everything is going to hell in a handbag, then it probably won’t be long before it blows.”

Madison didn’t say anything, I believe Ruth was scaring her and I believe to keep her quiet, was why Madison handed her another vodka airline bottle.

Notebook – Day Thirteen

Hey, Ev:

I bet by now you are home from camp. I hope you had a great time. Boy, I wish you were with me. All those skills you learned in Scouts would come in handy right now. I met this woman named, Ruth. I don’t know if you remember Grandma Lucy, but she reminds me so much of her. Ruth was a teacher at a really big college. I was really glad to meet her. She is full of knowledge and she’s funny.

We can’t travel for long. Each day we have to stop because it gets too dark to see. We are taking it one day at a time. We will get there. I promise.

I love you.

Mommy

FIFTEEN – MOVING ON

It was the first morning since everything happened that it was cold. Not just chilly cold, but winter cold. The sky was still semi-dark and we waited to leave. Finding a vehicle was going to be priority in our travels. The temperature in the building had to be about forty degrees. We needed more layers than what we had. I hated to do it, but it was necessary. I rummaged through some of the rooms looking for warmer clothing. I found a few items, they weren’t fashionable, but they’d work. I also found those paper disposable facemasks, which would come in handy. I checked the phone lines. I wasn’t expecting there to be any success. There wasn’t. But I had to try.

I brought the warmer items back to the room, and then lugged our packs and the suitcase to the first floor. While Madison dressed and prepared Ruth, I then carried the four oxygen canisters down as well. They were heavy and took two trips. It was a good thing we rigged her wheelchair to carry them. Though I was pretty convinced they weighed more than Ruth.

When I returned, Ruth was looking at the map with a magnifying glass.

“Go south, southeast,” she said. “Just to be sure. Just to aim for warmth. I know you girls have to go north eventually, but stay as far south as you can for as long as you can. I am gonna suspect that the less ash, the more likelihood of finding others.”

“That might not be a good thing,” Madison said, taking back the map.

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“Because people are going to get desperate,” Madison said. “Desperate people do desperate things. If Ruth is right and this ash and cloud thin out maybe you are right as well, and there is help out there.”

“If help is out there, our families are fine.”

Madison nodded. “That’s what I would hope.”

“Looks like you girls got it together,” Ruth said. “You don’t need help. You just need to get to your families.”

“Do you have family other than in California?” I asked.

Ruth shook her head. “No. Well… I think my grandson lives in Florida. Not sure.” She turned her head and looked out the window. “You girls better get moving. Daylight wasted is distance wasted.”

Madison nodded. “Forward, or back?” she asked me.

I knew what she was referring to. Did I want to walk backwards or forward when we carried Ruth down the stairs?

“Doesn’t matter,” I answered. “I can do either.”

Madison covered Ruth and then grabbed a facemask. “I want you to keep this on. We don’t need you breathing in too much ash. And if you need oxygen you let us know.”

Ruth stopped Madison. “I’m not going.”

“What?” Madison said with a laugh. “Of course, you are.”

“No. No. I’m not. You have a rough road ahead, the last thing you need is to have me as a burden.”

“Ruth?” I walked around for her to see me. “Do you want to stay because you don’t want to go, or are you just being a martyr?”

“Why does that matter?” Madison snapped.

I held my hand up. “It does. Trust me.”

Ruth exhaled. “I’m going to die soon anyhow.”

Madison chuckled emotionally. “Um, Ruth, you’ve been alive for ninety-two years, you lived through this, I don’t think you’re dying any time soon.”

“I will eventually run out of food and water and die.” She forced a smile.

“Alone,” Madison said. “You’ll die cold, hungry and alone. I won’t have that.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay?” Madison asked.

“Okay.” I took off that hideous green coat I had found. “I’ll bring our stuff back up here.”

“What are you doing?” Madison asked.

“Staying. You don’t want her to die alone, I don’t want her to die alone and I’m pretty sure Ruth doesn’t want to die alone.”

“She’s super spry, Lace.” Madison pointed to Ruth. “We may be here for a while.”

“Not if we don’t give her much food and…” I lifted the blanket from Ruth. “Let her be cold and live like we found her. I mean… more than likely hypothermia will set in long before she starves. She’s not too spry for that.” I winked at Madison. “I hear that’s not too painful and is actually peaceful.”

“Oh my God,” Madison barked. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

I kept a smug look on my face staring down at Ruth.

“You’re willing to let me starve and freeze to death?” Ruth asked.

“I got places to go. I refuse to walk with guilt over leaving you here alone to die. So I stay. I’ll just speed up the process.”

“You’re being a dick on purpose,” said Ruth.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “This is not the first time I dealt with something like this. I was apartment agent at public housing. One time, during a bad winter, all power went out to the senior building. One woman, eighty, refused to leave. I said the same thing to her. Know what happened?”

“She left?” Ruth asked.

“No, she died…” I paused. “Kidding. She left. Ready?”

Almost in shock, Ruth nodded and murmured. “Yes.”

Madison grabbed the blanket from my hand. “That was really twisted.”

“Yeah, but it needed to be done,” I said, putting my coat back on. “Would you leave her?”

“No.”

“Neither would I.”

Madison gave me another scolding look, hating my methods of convincing Ruth. What choice did we have? Every second was distance we didn’t get in the daylight.

Madison wheeled Ruth down the hall, and once at the stairs we carried her down. I walked backwards holding on to the bottom of the wheelchair. Once in the lobby, we gathered our items, hooked the oxygen to Ruth’s wheel chair, and we left for the next part of our journey.

We would head south once we got a sense of direction.

<><><><>

Ruth tried to hide the fact that she gasped, but it wasn’t from the air or ash, it was from the sight of everything. I suppose it was a lot different looking out a window than it was being in the thick of it.

She had spent days not seeing anything at all, the only light coming into her room was blocked by a mattress. Then when we moved her into another room, that view was limited.

She was facing destruction she wasn’t ready to see.

Moving her through the ash and around bodies and debris wasn’t easy. Ruth was lucky she weighed eighty pounds, but pushing that chair wasn’t easy. Madison and I switched off and on pushing her, and there were times it took us both to move the wheelchair. We weren’t moving fast, nor were we making much distance.

We had to find a means of transportation if we wanted to head southeast and try to clear the ash.

A hundred miles, maybe that would get us clear. A decent car with a half of tank of gas could get us there.

My fingers were cold and getting numb, not even moving kept them warm. We had Ruth covered from head to toe and she didn’t complain about anything.

Finally, after about three miles of walking, we spotted the building that could be our answer for shelter. The gray cinder block building would have been camouflaged between the overcast sky and the ash, had it not been for the bent yellow and black sign.

It was one of those instant oil change places. The ones that claimed it took only ten minutes, but in reality the wait was closer to an hour.

A car had crashed through the front window and one of the garage doors was open.

After saying, “Hold up,” Madison made her way over.

I watched as she entered, was in there for a few seconds and then came back out, making her way to us.

“There’s two cars in there. One, the hood is open. The other is just sitting there,” she said. “I’m gonna see if I can find the keys behind the counter if they aren’t in the car. It looks in good shape.”

“Think it will run?” I asked.

“If it starts, I don’t see why not. I mean, more than likely it was just in for oil, right?” Madison walked back to the garage and pushing Ruth, I followed. We waited just outside, behind the car that had gone through the front window. There were bodies in the car, I could see that. After a few minutes, the left side of the garage door opened,

“It started,” Madison said, then retreated back in.

She pulled the car out from the garage and we loaded the bags, then Ruth and finally her wheelchair. I left the driving to Madison and I got in.

We were fortunate, the economy sedan had nearly three quarters of a tank of gas. We could make some distance as long as obstacles didn’t get in our way.

The best choice for a route was a straight one. While back and secondary roads could be blocked with cars and debris, the highways presented a different problem. Overpasses could have collapsed or were in a dangerous state.

We opted for the secondary route. We had three good hours of daylight still and we headed south and south east.

I didn’t understand that at first. What was the difference? I wasn’t a cartographer, but by looking at the map, if Ruth’s theory was right, Long Valley Caldera was almost perpendicular to where we were. Going directly East would take us into dangerous territory.

Why not north?

Reasons were presented. More volcanoes? Possibly. Just in case the Yellowstone one decided to blow… got it.

Did it matter? We knew nothing. We hadn’t a clue what really happened. The only part about heading south that made sense to me was hoping for warmer weather.

The dashboard thermometer read that the outside temperature was forty-three degrees. Was it ever forty-three degrees in California during summer?

Chances were we’d stop for the night before we ran out of gas, and in stopping we had to think about staying warm, especially for Ruth.

The first hour of our car ride, I thought a lot about my family. How it had been two weeks since they spoke to me. In their minds was I already dead?

Ruth napped. Then again, she napped a lot. She actually fell asleep twice as we wheeled her through town before we found the car.

I didn’t realize how quiet I had become lost in my own thoughts, until I spoke out randomly. “I saw a movie once.”

“Oh, she speaks,” Madison said. “I thought you were sleeping or mad.”

“No. Just thinking.”

“About your family?” Madison asked.

“Yes.”

“Me, too.”

“Do you think they think we’re dead?”

Ruth mumbled from the back. “Probably.”

I shook my head.

“What movie?” Madison asked. “You said you saw a movie.”

“Oh,” I sat up some. “I saw a movie. A bad one. Not porno bad, but B bad. Made in 1960 I believe. It was called ‘The Last Woman on Earth’. And it was about these three people scuba diving. They came up and all the air was gone.”

“For real?” Madison said with some disbelief.

“Yeah. Weird huh? And everyone was dead. No destruction. No earthquakes. Just the air was gone. It came back, but they were the last people on earth.”

“What caused it?” Madison asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t remember?”

“No. I do. They never said. They ran around guessing.”

“What the hell? How can they do that and never say what caused it. It’s lazy writing,” Madison said.

“Maybe he was being realistic,” Ruth said. “No people. No power. No news. Under those circumstances, those people would never know…. Do you? There’s a chance you can go the rest of your life and never know. Thank God for me it won’t take long.”

Madison looked up to the rearview mirror. “You know, you’re awfully spry. Are you sure you’re ninety-two?”

“Don’t I look it?”

“No,” I answered. “Not at all. I wouldn’t peg you for older than seventy-five.”

Silence.

Madison snorted a laugh. “Oh please. She looks ninety.”

It was a momentary pause in the seriousness with some friendly bantering. That, however, didn’t last long. The focus had to be on driving. I was the second set of eyes that was needed. It was hard to see anything. The twilight appearance of the day played tricks on my eyes and debris and other things that blocked the road were hard to see.

Just before the sky darkened, instead of focusing on where we would stop, we began a search for our next vehicle.

We put over two hundred miles on the car but estimated we only made it a hundred and eighty from Longview. The ash didn’t thin, the destruction didn’t lessen, the temperature didn’t warm, nor were there any less random bodies. Even that many miles didn’t stop the death or ruination.

A few miles after our low fuel indicator dinged, we found our next automobile at a repair shop in a small suburb just north of Bakersfield. Madison announced she found a car that started but we didn’t transfer to that one, we left it in the garage. It was time we had to stop for the evening.

That car would be our travel source the next day. Until then, with about a half an hour daylight left, we foraged the Kwik Shop across the street for what food we could. Not that we needed it, but we wanted to replenish, then we retreated back to the economy sedan.

It was cold and the temperature had dipped to near thirty degrees Fahrenheit. Making a fire or building a source of heat had been far from our minds. Actually it never crossed my mind. It did when I grabbed that handful of lighters. For the night though, we used what little fuel we had remaining in the car to run the heater and stay warm. Windows cracked for airflow, it was our only option. We’d have to do better in the future, think ahead, especially if we wanted to survive however far we had to travel.

<><><><>

Whatever had happened to the world, didn’t just cause a reset of thinking, it definitely reset the daylight savings time thing. For how long, I didn’t know, but for the time being, total darkness encompassed fourteen hours of the day. The other ten hours teetered between almost dark and the look of dusk when the day was at its brightest.

There was no sun.

I couldn’t even pin point in the sky where it was. The thick dark cloud coverage was threatening looking and loomed at a low altitude.

When it was light, it was barely light. When it was dark, I couldn’t see my hand in front of me.

Quick moments of bright came at night only when the lightening started and it always did, every night a weird electrical storm started, always accompanied by ear deafening thunder, then it would rain.

That night in the car, it didn’t rain.

I was grateful.

We lit candles in the car and that helped to add heat. Being a small car, it stayed relatively tolerable. We discussed what we could do if we had to stop for another night and left to our own resources. None of us had ever built a fire. Hopefully we’d put enough miles behind us and find some sort of help or at least get to a warmer area.

If not, we’d figure it out. There were plenty of cars for the time being. Like with that movie I saw, the world was pretty much a resource center for us. Unlike the movie, it wasn’t as pretty, it was ugly. Ever since Ruth mentioned the moon, I kept likening our surroundings to that. As if it were a mash up of the earth and moon. That’s what it looked like.

I was the last to fall asleep. The candles in the car lit it enough for me to write in my journal. After Stevie’s name and story, I added Gregory Bannerman, the owner of the economy car that got us near Bakersfield and kept us warm. Gregory smoked. Empty packs of cigarettes were all through the car along with crushed energy drink cans. He had a chocolate bar obsession and judging by the amount of McDonald’s receipts, he ate there often.

Gregory spent a lot of time in his car.

I put that in my journal.

Madison poked fun at me and then she fell asleep. My watch read it was near five AM when I blew out the last candle and finally positioned myself to go to sleep. Hideous green jacket closed tight and moving the blanket over me, I rested my head against the window and fell asleep.

Somewhere in my slumber the car ran out of gas. The silence of a dead engine woke me and I had to depress the side of my watch to light it.

It was dark in the car and it shouldn’t have been. By my watch we should have had some daylight.

I didn’t hear anyone moving or breathing and some instant neurotic moment hit me and I feared Madison and Ruth died of carbon monoxide poisoning.

“Anyone up?” I called out.

“I am now,” Madison said groggy and sat up. “Is it still night?”

“No,” I answered.

“Oh, God, please don’t tell me we lost more daylight. What time is it?”

“Ten thirty.”

“It should be a little light.”

“I know.” I turned to the back seat. “Ruth, you okay, back there.”

“I’m cold.” Ruth sat up, bringing the blanket tighter to her.

“I am too.” I lit the candle. “Maybe we just need to wait it out.”

“No,” Madison said. “Look at the windshield.”

Just as my eyes gazed upon the windshield, Madison opened her door.

“Oh God,” she said in almost a groan.

A hint of dim daylight seeped into the car, and after telling Ruth, I’d be back, I opened my car door. I didn’t need to step out fully to know what Madison saw.

It was cold and I closed my car door to conserve what heat remained in that car. I wanted to scream, but I was in too much shock.

Nothing was recognizable.

It was a tormented winter wonderland. Tiny flakes floated downward at a slow but steady rate, but instead of everything being blanketed under a few inches of glistening white snow, the area was covered in a light gray ash. More was falling.

NOTE Book – Day Fifteen

Davis,

Remember how I wrote last night about regretting that we didn’t think ahead? I made a list of things we need to consider and work on. Although I don’t know how we will ever build a fire because we can’t be outside too long with all the ash. Anyhow, right now, it was like that one time we got stuck in your father’s car and it snowed while we waited for help. When we woke up, everything was covered in ash. So much so, we couldn’t see.

This is insane. It really is. I don’t know what is going on?

Lace

SIXTEEN - ROUND TWO

For a brief moment, Ruth wasn’t ninety-two years old and a helpless resident in an assisted living facility. I read that studious look upon her face and she just seemed so scholarly. What a gem we found in her. Who needed Google when we had Ruth? Her mind was sharp and she attributed it to continuous reading and puzzles.

But as she held a pen, my notebook and the map, her frail hand trembled as she wrote.

“How much ash again?” she asked.

“About two inches,” I answered.

“Is it darker or more of a pale gray?”

“Pale,” I answered.

“Weight?” she questioned further. “Was it heavy, light, wet?”

Madison opened the car door again, stepped out and after a moment, got back in. “It’s fine. Lightweight, not wet.”

Ruth nodded.

Madison looked at me and spoke with a whispering voice. “She doesn’t know.”

“I’m old, not deaf,” Ruth snapped.

“Thought those two went together,” Madison said. “Sorry Ruth.”

Ruth flung out her hand. “Okay, so…” She handed me the map. “People don’t know that there are twenty active volcanoes in the state of California. We’re about a hundred miles from the Coso Volcanic range and about two hundred and fifty from Long Valley. They didn’t erupt last night. We’d feel it. Hear it. They’re close. They could be letting off steam.” She shrugged. “Chances are, with this amount of ash we’re either a few hundred miles from a smaller volcano or a thousand miles from a huge one.”

“Yellowstone is a thousand miles away,” I said.

“True, but it’s not a single eruption, we always hypothesized it would erupt for a month straight, eventually burying Los Angeles in thirty inches of ash. If that’s the case, we got another week to get farther south and east or we will be buried and stuck.” She stared down to her hands. “I just… it just doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t match up to what we thought.”

“No one was around when it erupted before,” Madison said. “So no one knows.”

“True,” Ruth nodded.

“Could it be something else?” I asked. “Something we didn’t think of?”

“It could be,” Ruth said.

“We’ll know soon enough,” said Madison. “If Ruth is right and this ash thins out then we’ll probably and eventually run into people. Anyone outside of this area has to have information.”

We had plenty of time to talk, and had already used a good forty minutes of daylight going over the map and transferring our belongings. We took it slow as we drove, it was hard to see and even more gray than the day before.

Hopefully, before the end of the day, we’d clear it.

Hopefully.

<><><><>

Sand and ash aren’t a great mix, especially when the road disappears beneath the fallout. The ash wasn’t any thinner the farther east we went, and as we got about fifty miles on Highway Forty, we lost the road. We ended up off the trail and got stuck. At least the ash stopped falling. It was hard to tell if we were in the Mojave Desert, or the Antarctic. Visually, it looked like a frozen tundra, but it wasn’t.

By our calculation we had about two hours of good, sunless daylight left. We had to decide whether to abandon the car and walk, or stay put. For all we knew there wasn’t anything ahead of us for miles, we could walk and have no shelter for the night, or stay put and wake up to even more problems. There was no clear cut better option. Having Ruth with us, we opted to stay put.

We did, however, get some good miles behind us. The only positive thing was the daylight temperature was fifty-five, but night was coming.

It was another night in the car with candles as our only light in a dark dead world. We didn’t leave the car running like before. There was no need to, unless the temperature dropped even more.

The ash seemed to be doing a number on my skin, making it feel uncomfortably dry. Despite wearing a facemask, my throat was constantly tickling and all three of us coughed a little more than we did the previous night. I prayed for one of those fluke rain storms so I could go out and stand in it.

One never came.

We needed the rain. While our food held up, it was evident that our water supply wasn’t going to make it much longer. We had to ration our water intake. That alone didn’t help with the dry throat. In my planning, I didn’t believe that we should even spend one night in a car with Ruth, let alone a second.

Our happy little traveling party would turn desperate before long. We all knew it and sensed it. Our lack of conversation that night was evidence of that. No one wanted to talk much. Because of that, we never saw it coming.

The cold crept in, slowly as we slept. The car wasn’t running so there was no way to know how far the temperature dropped. Shivering, despite the covers was my body’s way of trying to warm up and wake me.

It was the beginning of daylight, still dark, but not pitch black.

I was shaking, it was so cold. I reached over and turned the ignition, it cranked but didn’t start. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” Madison asked then sat up with a groan. “Oh my God, it’s freezing in here.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Do you think it’s better outside?”

“I don’t know, but we need to bundle up and move. Staying put is not helping. If we could get the heater going we could warm up first.” I could feel my fingers tingle. “Why won’t the car start?”

“I don’t know.” Madison tried to start the car. Again, like with me, it cranked. She shifted her eyes. “Battery’s not dead. Sounds like the starter. Switch spots with me.” She opened the car door, popped the hood and stepped out. “It’s actually a little warmer out here, leave the door open.”

“Okay,” I replied, then opened my door and looked back to Ruth. She had her covers to her neck. ‘Be right back, we’re gonna try to start the car. Warm up before heading out.”

Ruth groaned, I believed it was her acknowledging me.

I stepped outside and realized how cold it had gotten over night. The ash was hard and crunchy, almost as if ice formed in it. Madison was peering under the hood, a wrench in her hand. “Do you know what you’re doing?” I asked.

“Knowledge by proxy.” Madison smiled. “Go start the car when I say. I’m gonna bang on the starter.”

“Will that work?”

“It can. We just need to get the car hot so we can get warm, right? Worth a shot. Go on.”

I returned to the car and sat in the driver’s seat.

“Crank it. Don’t stop until I tell you,” Madison yelled. “Now.”

I turned the key and not only listened to the crank, but Madison as she banged.

Finally it started.

We both screamed in victory, I cranked up the heater and she hurried inside.

“Won’t be long.” Madison rubbed her hands together. “Keep this running until it gets light enough to move. Be warm in a second, Ruth.” She looked back. “Ruth?”

Ruth made a noise.

“Ruth wake up. Get that heart pumping.” Madison reached back and shook her.

Ruth lifted her hand and swung at Madison. When she did, Madison stopped her mid swipe and grabbed her hand.

“Oh my God. Her fingers are blue.” She said. “Ruth?” Madison said her name, then said it louder. “Ruth!”

While Ruth did reply, it was hard to understand, almost inaudible, a near groaning sound. She moved her hands and tossed off her blankets.

We didn’t know what it was, but something was wrong with Ruth.

<><><><>

We stayed in the car, heater running, until we couldn’t stay in there anymore. I had removed my coat, it was so warm. Our first thought was Ruth was suffering from hypothermia but she was still confused, even after warming up. We didn’t dismiss a possible stroke. Truth was, neither of us being medical professionals, we just didn’t know.

After plying her with blankets, not only did we have the facemask on her, but the oxygen flowed freely into her nostrils. Ruth was breathing, but she was lethargic.

Neither Madison, nor myself wanted to say it, but I could tell she felt the same way I did. We took Ruth with us, took her from her bed, her home, with hopes of making it to a better place, only to have her dying in an ash filled barren world.

Even walking, it was hard to tell when we were on the road, or off. We took turns pushing Ruth in the wheelchair. It moved sluggishly and was weighed down. I still had my metal rod that I used as a walking stick at first, and like a person without sight I scraped the stick left to right as I walked. As long as it sounded like concrete, we were on the road, twice I stepped off.

The ash created a haze, each step brushed up more. It reminded me of the time four years earlier when we went camping. It was so hot and humid that when it rained, it caused a fog so thick I couldn’t see ten feet in front of me. This was similar.

It was almost frightening.

There was no sound, just our crunching footsteps and the squeaky wheel of the chair.

We lugged everything we had, and it seemed as if there were no end.

When it was my turned to push Ruth, I kept tapping her shoulder, getting a response, making sure she was still alive. I hoped and prayed that we found medical help soon. It was unfair. This vibrant, spry and intelligent woman was just deteriorating before us.

It wasn’t her time to go, not yet and she was pushing at death’s door because we opened it.

I spoke to her about my family, my kids, my husband and his quirks. I asked her questions that she never answered, but I pretended she did.

It seemed as if we were walking forever, in fact, according to my watch, we had been walking three hours. Nonstop, no breaks, until Madison halted.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

She extended the metal rod. “Up ahead. I see lights. A couple orange, and a blinking white one.”

I didn’t see what she described, then again I didn’t have my glasses. Not that I needed them much, or was required to wear them when I drove, my sight wasn’t that bad, but they helped. “I don’t see any.”

Ruth muttered. “Mirage.”

I shrieked with joy at her response. It was a response. “Yes. Yes it is.”

“No, no it’s not,” Madison said. “Look.”

Madison was right. Every foot we moved the lights became clearer.

Without a doubt there was a blinking white light higher in the sky and lower there were orange lights.

My first thought was a rescue center. That the orange lights were headlights and the strobe like one was a beacon.

I was filled with hope. Suddenly, the sluggish ash wasn’t in my way, it wasn’t holding me back. I pushed Ruth’s wheelchair faster and seemingly with more ease. There was a sense of relief that came as well. If there was a rescue center ahead, Ruth would get medical help.

Someone was ahead. Others were alive.

SEVENTEEN – IN PLANE VIEW

When Madison said, “This has to be a sign, or it means something.” I knew exactly what she meant.

As the haze lifted not only did the blinking light grow larger, but also shades of white and blue came into my view. When we emerged through, it struck me that it all had to be part of fate. A puzzle pieced together that I eventually would solve. Maybe it was a sign. First, I was at the airport when everything went down. Second, I found refuge in an airplane after I emerged from that hole. And now I stood, staring at another plane.

A huge Boeing 737 was horizontal in front of us. A single side door was open and from it was a makeshift ladder. Inside were sporadic dim lights, possibly from candles or lanterns. As we made our approach we spotted a man in his fifties, lighting what seemed to be improvised torch lights that perched on a perimeter outside the plane.

He wore a soiled white shirt, his hair was gray, but not from ash. He was remarkably clean in an area encompassed by dirt.

When he spotted us, he immediately stopped what he was doing and rushed our way. That was when I noticed that airline seats formed a fence like circumference around the plane marking off an area that was strangely free from ash. As if they took a broom and continuously kept a clean circle.

His smile turned into concern when he saw Ruth. “My God, let me help you,” he said. “This way.” He took over my position behind the wheelchair and moved it with ease ahead of us.

Walking was easier, too. Not just because the ash was removed, but I discovered somehow in our journey we had wandered off the path, and off the road.

The plane was on the highway… we weren’t.

He moved the wheelchair quickly to the side door of the plane. “Anna,” he hollered aiming his voice at the open door. “Anna, grab Bill, we have an emergency to leverage up to you.”

Madison and I arrived at Ruth’s side.

“What’s her name?” he asked.

“Ruth,” I answered.

“How old? Do you know?” he questioned further.

“Ninety-two.”

He crouched down and began removing the layers of blankets. “Ruth, we’re gonna do our best to make you better. Anna is a good woman.”

Within seconds, an Asian woman appeared at the plane’s door with another man. Whether he was a medical professional or not, we didn’t know. She was. At least I thought so. Her age was hard to tell, she wasn’t young, but she wasn’t old either. Her hair was pulled in a sloppy pony tail and she wore pale green hospital scrubs. From the door they lowered a chair, harnessed by two straps.

The gray haired man lifted Ruth with ease from the wheel chair and placed her in the chair that had been lowered down. He buckled her in, gave a hand signal and called up to Anna, “Her name is Ruth, she’s ninety-two.”

“Got it,” Anna replied as she and the man lifted Ruth up and into the plane.

I stood there watching as they removed her from the chair.

“Give them some time to look her over,” he said.

My eyes were focused on the plane. I stepped back trying to see through the windows. They were so high, it was nearly impossible.

“Did you crash out here?” Madison asked.

“No. We had to land,” he said. “No choice.”

“So you’ve been here the whole time? Two weeks?” Madison asked.

“Seventeen days to be exact.”

That caught my attention, after looking around, seeing how they impressively had their survival act together, I faced him. “Are you’re stuck here?” I asked.

He shook his head. “The plane is. We’re not.”

Madison looked at him with a confused expression. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you leave?’

“If I had, I wouldn’t have been here to help Ruth, would I?” He forced a closed mouth smile then turned serious. “There’s more to it. Right now, let’s get you settled and we’ll talk.”

Reluctantly, I agreed. A part of me wanted to tell him to talk and explain, but what was the rush? Darkness was fast approaching and there was nowhere else to go. We were there for the duration.

At least finally, I would get some answers to what happened. At least I hoped I would.

EIGHTEEN – DANCING ON THE EDGE

Seventeen days earlier something happened to the United States, maybe even the world. I was buried in a hole while most of the world tried to assess the damage, survive other events. At least that was what I was beginning to think.

His name was Doug and he was the pilot of Flight 2472, Dallas to Seattle. Doug was formerly in the Air Force reserves, but served actively on a volunteer disaster emergency task force. In fact, he had a simulation seminar in San Francisco the day after the event. Obviously, Doug never made it.

He informed us that for sanitation and safety issues, they were attempting to keep the camp as clean and ash free as possible. Because of that, we had to leave our belongings outside of the perimeter. At least the clothing and blankets. Anything that would hold the ash. My notebook and remaining supply of booze bottles were permitted.

He showed us to an area behind the plane. There were more airline seats. Not as many, and a tent structure that was only a little wider than a port-a-john perched on the edge of the clean perimeter. I quickly learned it wasn’t an outhouse, but rather a shower or rinsing room. A barrel marked, ‘water’ was next to it. Stepping inside, the floor was slanted to allow the water to run out away from the clean area. Doug sought out clothes for us while we rinsed away the ash. It took a while, the water was so cold I lost my breath, but it was fantastic to feel clean again.

I waited for Madison to finish rinsing. Then with our clothes picked from random luggage, we walked around to the front of the plane to search out Doug.

“Shit.” Madison stopped cold. “What the hell is the matter with me? I’ll be back.” She took off running back to the rinsing stall.

I followed her, when I got there she was placing the locket back over her head. She kissed it with closed eyes before allowing it to rest on her chest.

“That must really mean a lot to you,” I said.

Madison cleared her throat. “That’s an understatement.”

“Is it a picture of your mom or dad?” I asked.

“My daughter.” She opened up the locket that was about an inch and a half. On one side a picture of a baby the other side was plastic with a cross. “That’s her picture, the other is some of her ashes.”

“Oh, Madison. Oh I am so sorry. She’s beautiful.”

Madison smiled sadly and closed the locket. “My only girl,” She cradled the locket again. “Me and Bruce we tried. Oh we tried so hard to have a third child. We were ecstatic when we found out it was a girl.” Madison smiled. “Everything was good. We got all things pink. After I had her, there were so many pink balloons in the room. The whole family was excited but I guess God decided he wanted her more. She passed away before we even left the hospital. It was her little heart.”

There was a silent moment after she said that. One filled with sadness. No words spoken, only quiet gazes of understanding. As a mother, I could imagine her pain. Now, like me she was worried about her sons, our families. We both hadn’t talked much about finding them, we were too preoccupied with getting to safety.

That part was done. At least I thought it was.

We’d move on to the next phase, I suppose.

“Everything okay?” Doug’s voice broke that moment between us.

“Yes,” I replied. “Yes, it is.”

He led us back to the plane and waited until we climbed up the ladder. Once inside, the air was clean and fresh and the plane seemed bigger without the seats. Areas were sectioned off as if it was some sort of trailer.

Doug extended his hand to a small table, which had two bottles of water along with two small boxes that resembled the bistro boxes I got off the plane.

“I figured you’d might be hungry.”

“Actually, yes,” I said.

“I am, too.” Madison walked to the table.

Honestly, food sounded awesome but my mind screamed for answers. I was living the world’s longest riddle, come on, give me the answer.

“I just made some coffee,” Doug said. “Would you like some?”

I only nodded.

Madison on the other hand perked right up. “Oh my God, I would kill for a cup.”

“No need to go that far.”

I sat down and lifted the lid to my box of food. There was a roll and a small square container with some sort of brown gravy, along with a pack of dehydrated fruit.

“New emergency meals,” Doug said as he handed us the coffee then finally joined us.

“I’m so confused,” I said.

“About what?” Doug asked.

Madison laughed. “As if you have to ask. This is a plane, but you have gone way beyond what would be on a plane. How?”

I shook my head. “My question is bigger. I wanna know what happened?”

Madison nodded. “Okay, that’s a better question.”

Doug sighed and stood. “What happened? Not one thing, many things, no one really knows.”

“For real!” Madison blasted. “Are you fucking kidding me? Look, I am drinking bottled water with the letters FEMA on it, eating out of a boxed called…” She lifted it. “Emergency Survival Rations. I had a shower in a tent, now correct me if I am wrong, but I am pretty sure that Sky Blue Airlines doesn’t have all this in their cargo department. Whoever gave you this, has answers.”

“No one has definitive answers,” Doug said. “A lot happened. Alright… from my point of view…” He sat back down. “I’m flying. On my way to Seattle from Dallas. Three hour layover in Vegas. All I know is, about an hour out of Vegas, I receive word of major seismic activity off the Pacific coast and that I would be grounded longer. Hell, I figured Seattle had a quake. I was cruising at about twenty-two thousand feet. I informed the passengers of this and all hell broke loose. The attendants told me that no one was able to get Wi-Fi or use their phones. About twenty minutes later I see this huge ass black mountain of a cloud blasting my way. I’m at twenty thousand feet. This thing is that high. It was like a freak storm with lightening.”

“So you only saw the cloud?” Madison asked.

“Yes and no,” Doug answered. “I immediately turned and lifted the plane as fast as I could. I remember Rod, my copilot saying, ‘Jesus that looks like a cloud from a volcano.’ And while I’m busy trying to avoid this disaster headed our way, I’m racking my brain trying to figure out where the hell was a volcano. I lifted above it. I mean I went as high as I could safely go. It was below us, rolling on. Like a sea of blackness filled with fire and lightening. I also saw something else…” he paused. “Streaks of fire and debris, just falling from the sky.”

“What goes up, must come down,” I said.

“Or comes down and starts it all,” Doug said. “Whatever started it sent everything into a frenzy. My computer went nuts, I was playing a guessing game about our location. There was no communication, I flew every direction, or so I thought. Navigation was shit. I had a hundred and sixty hysterical people on board. The air was rough and it grew worse. Finally, I knew I had to land. I didn’t know what was below, I couldn’t see. All I knew was that with each passing hour, the thick part of the cloud kinda loomed above the ground and it spread out to the point it was getting harder and harder to see. It went from clear skies above it, to gray, no matter what altitude. Debris was making its way into the atmosphere and spreading out like a blanket over it all. I descended on a prayer, hoping we’d clear it without hitting a building or mountain. Thankfully, we made it through. Ash was falling like snow but it was still thin enough to see the ground. By the grace of God we landed safely.”

“Did you have any problems breathing?” I asked.

“No. None. That happened when the cloud rolled in. We were above it.”

“So you know about that?” Madison asked. “I called it the Choke. I saw people choke and die.”

“From what I heard about it, that may be a good name for it. Anna…” Doug pointed to a curtained off area. “Said people suffocated from whatever was in the cloud. Well, she didn’t see it obviously. Just reports from survivors.”

I looked around. “No one’s here. Where are all the people from the flight?”

“Oh, they left about three days after we landed. Military envoys rolled passed, saw our strobe. They were setting up a station about fifty miles from here. They had maybe a handful of survivors. It’s a little clearer on the ground south east of here, but not much.”

“Why are you still here?” I asked.

“They asked. They asked if they gave me help, would I consider being a transitional stop in case anyone makes it out of California, or near here. I lit three torches and keep the strobe going. They wait here, a truck comes every couple days. Takes them out to the station,” Doug said. “A truck just left this morning. Of course, after that second ash storm I was beginning to think we saw the last of the walking survivors.”

Madison perked up. “So there are other survivors?”

“Yes.” Doug nodded. ‘Not a lot. About thirty have been through here.”

“And they take them where?” I questioned. “To the station?”

“They’re gathering survivors to get them to long term safety.

“Can they help us get home?” I asked.

“If you live in the continental US,” he said. “There is no home any more. Canada too, within a week that won’t be habitable.”

I laughed in disbelief. “How is that possible from one volcanic eruption?”

“One?” He asked. “Something, no one knows exactly what, lit up an entire line of active volcanoes from Washington State down through California. No warning just… an entire line, boom, boom, boom.”

“Yellowstone?” Madison asked.

“They think that’s what happened last night. Again, it’s only talk because whatever is in the air blocks radio and communications farther than twenty miles. It’s like the pony express way of getting messages. They know Mt. Rainier wiped out pretty much everything north of San Francisco.”

“You said something caused it,” I said. “Any guesses what?”

Doug tossed up his hands. “It could have just been Mother Nature saying enough is enough. It could have been one thing setting off the whole slew, a meteor, something breaking earth’s rotation and gravity pull, even for a split second. Nobody knows.”

Madison muttered softly, “The moon. Ruth said something about the moon.”

Doug nodded. “That’s been tossed out. Then again, what I hear is only what Major Graham tells me when he stops by. He’s the one that has me set up here. They’re good people. They’re trying. They are inhibited by lack of communication. How do you evacuate an entire country south when there’s no way to reach them?”

“I need to get home,” I said with emotion. I could feel the anxiety building. I never once considered I wouldn’t get home or there’d be no home to go to. “How can I get there?”

“I told you, there’s no way. Most people, hopefully will see the only way to survive is to go south. Way south. You can discuss this more thoroughly with them. They’ll have more information. I know they’re trying to find a way to move everyone south.”

“Why south?” Madison asked. “Is that the only area the cloud didn’t touch?”

Doug shook his head. “It’s the only area that may… may be warm enough to survive. Have you looked up? No sun. It’s dark most of the time. I can only imagine how cold it will get.”

“The next ice age,” Madison said.

I closed my eyes. This wasn’t happening. My focus was to get to safety then to find my family. Doug had to be mistaken, he had to be.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Doug stood. “I’m gonna go check on your friend and see if you two are able to visit her. Eat. Please.”

My fingered trailed against the box of food. Thoughts of my husband and children were dominating my mind. Were they safe? Were they scared? “Doug?” I called to him and looked over my shoulder. “Do you have a family?”

He paused at the curtain. “I… have a pretty large family. Wife and four kids. My oldest…” his voice cracked. “Just graduated high school.”

“Will you go to them? Or are they already safe?”

“No.” He shook his head. “My family was in Tacoma, Washington. They didn’t have the luxury of making it to safe ground. Excuse me.” He slipped through the curtain.

I drank the coffee, but somehow, any appetite I had was long gone.

After several minutes of thick silence, Anna opened the drape.

“Did you want to visit with Ruth?” she asked.

That went without question. Both Madison and I stood up from the table and walked into the back portion of the plane.

Ruth was set up on a cot next to the windows. She had an IV running in her arm and oxygen fed through her nose. She opened her eyes when we approached her bed.

There was something brighter about them and that caused an immediate exhale of relief.

“Hey,” I said reaching down to her hand.

“How is she?” Madison asked.

“As you probably guessed, she was hypothermic,” Anna said. “She’s tough. Her vitals are stable, heart rate better, she doesn’t seem to be slurring as much. I think she’ll make a full recovery in time. Once they get her to Hilltop, she’ll get full on care until they move her out.”

“What’s in Hilltop?” I asked.

“A miracle,” said Anna. “The mountains really shielded most of the town and reserves from Flagstaff set up a base there. They’re trying, you know. Sending people south to set up camps. It’s so difficult to find out what is going on where because of communications. I have heard that the farther southeast you go the longer distance you can radio.” She shrugged. “That’s only what I heard.

“If Hilltop is such a miracle, why don’t people stay there?” Madison questioned.

“I suppose a small amount will, but even spared from ash and destruction it isn’t spared by the weather. It’s summer, daylight temperatures are fifty, night drops to twenty.” She gave a nod down to Ruth. “Hence why the hypothermia. And that’s just now. The longer we go without sun, the colder it will be. My concern and job is to treat people and get them healthy enough to move.”

We were the questioning duo. I supposed all me and Madison did was ask questions, probably like other survivors did, and Anna, along with Doug, answered them as if they answered the questions a hundred times before.

More of a rattling off of memorized lines.

They both were to be commended. Doug and Bill were both on the flight and stayed behind. We didn’t speak to Bill much, he was quiet. Anna was in Flagstaff doing her internship. She joined up with Major Graham and the forces he gathered.

Everyone was helping out of the goodness of their hearts. All doing their parts to save a spark of humanity.

Yet, no one knew what was beyond our country. Was it worldwide or just us?

Madison mentioned it had to be global, there was no way, after all these days that some other country wouldn’t have come in to help. Maybe they did and we just didn’t know?

Though some of our questions were answered, most we’d learn in bits and pieces. More information the more we traveled. For the time being we were stalled at the plane, waiting on the truck to come, healing, gathering strength while physically and mentally in the dark.

NOTEBOOK – Day Seventeen

Hey gang,

Today I found out I missed a day. I don’t think I miscounted, I think I just missed it. My God has it been two and a half weeks since we spoke? Three since I saw you? It seems like forever. Tonight I am safe, we are learning more people survived and that’s a good thing. We’ll be getting help soon. Help to get home to all of you. I keep saying we, I know, I think my new friend Madison and her family will be with us. We all have so much to offer each other and I don’t know how far I would have made it without her.

I learned something else today. No one really knows what happened, at least not on this side of the country. It is a bunch of, ‘I heard, she heard, I saw, I think’ I hope you have answers, I really do. This is driving me nuts.

I also had my first cup of coffee in weeks. My head is buzzing. How funny is that?

Mom

Nineteen – Decisions

The Sky Blue Airline Jet that parked on the highway was a stopping point. In the two days we were there, not another survivor emerged. Doug said that was normal, he had gone as many as four days between survivors before us.

It was a different feel. No longer striving to move forward to survive, no longer an essence of the unknown. Although the exact schematics of the events weren’t known, at least we had a general idea of what caused all the damage.

Ruth was getting better. She slept a lot, Anna told us that was to be expected. However, perky Ruth probably would return by the time we reached Hilltop.

We were resting, waiting for the truck and thinking ahead. Doug and Bill both had told us things change daily. Information from the east travelled by way of messenger until that messenger reached a point where they could begin a series of radio relay calls. Unfortunately signals didn’t go more than a few hundred miles after Texas, even less in New Mexico. So something that was decided on a Monday could take as long as a week to reach Doug, especially since he relied on the information to come with the truck.

He expected one day that truck would come with no information and just pack them up and move out.

We would be better informed once we reached Hilltop. I anxiously waited to go, hoping that when we got there we’d find out that a more organized plan of evacuation and exodus was in place. Something initiated by the government, or what was left of it.

Doug believed that was happening. He only knew Major Graham’s side of the story. That the major activated his National Guard unit by pretty much going door to door of the homes of those who were in his unit. They created a chain reaction, each person then going out and getting more soldiers together.

Anna was part of that reserve unit. She said a little less than fifty percent showed up, but their families volunteered. The force was pretty big in Hilltop, diminished in size by the amount of scouts they sent out and members, like her, that went to transitional camps.

I believed we were told all that we could be told by them.

While taking a moment not to worry about driving and finding a way through rubble, I got to know Madison better. Alicia was the name of her daughter who passed away a mere three years earlier.

Her husband Bruce was a mechanic, who actually started out as a real estate agent. I didn’t ask how he made such a switch in careers.

She had two sons. Caleb, who was nine and Bad Bruce, who was eight.

“Bad Bruce?” I asked.

“Well, I hate the Big Bruce Little Bruce thing. And forget Senior and Junior. I figured good and bad, since my husband is a good guy and my son is just… bad.”

Mischievous was more like it. She shared stories of them, as I did about my family. We made a pact that while traveling north we would both start from the beginning, sharing stories of our lives, each year of our lives, until we arrived. It would pass the time because we both vowed, that unless we were told with a hundred percent certainty that our families were evacuated, that we, despite the odds, would look for them, no matter what the outcome.

TWENTY – LAST ON LEFT

Not just physically before my eyes had everything transformed, but internally as well. I went from being trapped in a pocket to finding my way out. When you focus on one thing, nothing else exists. You tend to miss a lot.

Sitting in the back of the truck on those hard bench seats whipped not only by cold air, but by a chilling reality of the world.

There was no color. None at all.

As we rolled down the highway we were encompassed by a cloud of dust stirred up by the wheels of the fast moving vehicle.

I watched a desolate world through the slats of that truck. Madison and I were the only ones back there. Ruth was up front with the two soldiers that arrived.

I didn’t get their names or even speak to them. They brought boxes to Doug, spoke to Anna and escorted us to the back of that military truck.

All the items we lugged with us before we arrived at Doug’s were gone. Buried in ash when we left them at the perimeter. We now traveled with minimum belongings. I at least had my backpack from the first plane.

The trip to Hilltop took all of an hour and it was evident that we had arrived because suddenly some color came back. The noon sky still looked like an early evening summer storm was brewing, but there was very little ash on the road or buildings we passed.

We stopped not long after arriving and the second we began to climb from the truck, a buzz filled my ears, like a pressure. It turned into a hum, then a vibration and suddenly the ground shook. It wasn’t mild or a tremor, it felt like a ride, bucking up and down, left to right. The side grates on the truck waved as if they were going to crack and a chorus of screams flowed our way. I held tight with closed eyes, begging in my mind, “Stop, please stop.”

I swore I even held my breath.

When I opened my eyes, I saw the horrified look on Madison’s face.

“Don’t have a panic attack,” I told her.

She shook her head. “That was really long.”

“Tell me about it.”

One of the soldiers opened the back and extended his hand to Madison, helping her down. Then he aided me.

“We’re taking your friend to the medical tent,” the soldier said. “You can find her there.”

And then he walked away.

“Wait.” Madison called out, nearly following him. “Where is…”

She stopped.

It was when I joined her that I saw what rendered her speechless. A huge camp was set up on the street. I couldn’t see how far it extended. There was a degree of chaos as people tried to straighten things and pick up items after the quake.

Someone moved us out of the way and a school bus rolled by slowly. I looked up to the windows, to the people inside, the nameless faces that went by. One image, one person was forever embedded in my mind.

A little girl, her hair dark, her face tiny and petite. She pressed her hand against the window looking at me, so helpless and lost.

I watched her until I couldn’t see her any more.

Was she alone? Did she have family or someone to ride with her, telling her everything would be all right?

The bus moved farther away and I turned to face Madison.

“What now?” Madison asked.

“I don’t know. Find this Major Graham?”

“Where?”

I just shrugged.

They unloaded us and left. There were hundreds of people, so much confusion. We’d start at the first tent and work our way in. One positive thing to the whole mess… we weren’t the only ones alive.

<><><><>

He wasn’t visually what I expected. Upon hearing the name ‘Major Graham’, a staunch older man with a barrel chest and crass demeanor came to mind. In fact that was what I searched for. The first man that matched my description of Major Graham wasn’t in the military at all. He was a local coffee shop manager who ended up pointing us to the correct tent.

Major Graham wasn’t older. He looked more like he just graduated college. An average height man, whose build was hard to tell hidden beneath the military jacket. He wore a cap, stood behind a desk while shuffling through large papers, I assumed were maps.

“Can I help you, ladies?” he asked.

I stepped farther into the tent. “I hope so. We’re just lost, confused and haven’t a clue where to go, or what to do.”

“They just dropped us off,” Madison said.

“Who did?” Graham asked.

“The two soldiers who picked us up,” Madison replied. “We were with Doug.”

“Ah.” Graham nodded and placed down his pencil. “You guys were the last of the four people to come from the dead zone?”

“The… dead zone?” I asked.

He waved us over to the desk, shuffled some maps, finally lifting one from the bottom of the pile. He indicated with his finger to the west coast. “This entire area from Los Angeles to Seattle. We assumed everyone else suffocated.”

“I survived the choke,” Madison said. “Others did too, they had to.”

“The choke?” he asked.

“That’s what I call it.”

“I like it. It’s easy. I’m gonna borrow that.”

Madison nudged me and said, “Told you it would catch on.”

“Well, aside from the one person, if others did survive… the choke,” he said. “And didn’t make it out, I doubt they will now. Ash is piling on in some areas, an inch an hour. They speculate a second wave rolled in three days ago, turning it all to mud. It’s speculation. Any attempts to see with satellites is futile, Earth is pretty much a shrouded ball at this point.”

“There is no communication?” Madison questioned.

“Some. Not us. We get very little information. It’s like the pony express.”

“Doug called it that,” Madison said.

“I got it from Doug.” Graham flashed a smile. “I know they are trying desperately to figure out some sort of communication. Each day it gets worse. Antarctica was our link to the satellites. They can see, but the images aren’t clear. They spotted the wave… but then the earth just got too covered to see if it made land.”

My voice perked with a tad of excitement, finally some answers. “So you know what happened?”

“Happening,” Graham corrected. “It’s not done yet. No one knows how long it will last. I’m gonna assume you felt that last quake. Expect more. Is the worst over?” He shrugged. “Destruction wise. Yes. However within two weeks, maybe three…. If the Mason Dixon line extended straight across the US, every area above that will be a frozen wasteland.” His finger trailed across the map. “Between that and the Tropic of Cancer, will be largely uninhabitable due to the cold. Farther south, we’re hopeful, but who knows.” He folded the map. “It’s just the best bet for survival.”

“How…” I asked. “How did everything suddenly just blow?”

“We’re in the middle of a pole reversal. I think that’s what it is called.”

“No.” Madison shook her head. “I’m smart enough to know a pole reversal or magnetic reversal doesn’t happen overnight.”

“It does,” Graham emphasized, “when a large planetary body passes too close to earth, or strikes the moon shifting it slightly in orbit. That will cause an immediate chain of events within twelve hours. So… I’ve been told. Please, I’m not an expert.”

“How did they not see it coming?” I asked. “Something so large.”

“To quote a favorite movie,” Graham said. “It’s an awfully big sky. My guess is they did see it, my guess is also, they either knew, or believed, it would pass on the other side of the moon.”

“The moon controls a lot,” Madison said. “Do we know if it hit it, missed it, or passed too close?”

“Reports in Africa say they watched the night sky light up,” He said in almost a daze. “Even with those reports, what is a twelve hour window? What is a one week window? Anything less than a year warning would send people into the streets panicking. Quietly without warning, they let things happen. And…” he exhaled. “As far as if it was a hit or miss. We’ll know when the sky clears, won’t we? Whenever that is.” He sat down. “I wish I could talk more. I enjoyed this break and I say that sincerely, but I have buses to plan, people to move south, and search parties to send out.”

“You’re not doing all this on your own, are you?” I asked.

“No. There are a lot of stations. I’m just the last one before the west.”

“One more question,” I said. “Are the places south, are they organized. Do they know who is going where?”

“You mean are we registering people?” he asked. “I don’t know. If we are there will be no way to coordinate that info for a long time. Are you looking for someone?”

“Our families. Both of us,” I said. “They are very north east of here.”

“I see.” He nodded. “I’m not sure what teams made it where. I do know a lot of folks headed south. I can….” He looked down. “Get you two on a bus in a week. That’s the best I can do.”

I looked at Madison then to Graham. “Thank you, but I don’t think I’ll be on that bus.”

“Me either,” Madison said.

“What?” He asked with a chuckle. “Are you staying here? Where are you going?”

“Home,” I said. “I need to find my family, or see that they left.”

“It’s already dangerous,” he said. “In a week it could be suicide.”

“That’s a chance I am willing to take,” I said. “Wouldn’t you?”

He stared for a moment. “I am responsible for your safety. Will you give me a day to see if other camps maybe hit your home towns?”

Madison glanced my way, I conveyed my agreement and she nodded at Graham. “Yeah. That would be great if you can see what you can do.”

“I’ll catch you later for the information,” he said.

“And we’ll let you get back to work,” I told him. “Thank you so much for your honesty and answers.”

“Not a problem.”

We both turned and stopped.

“What do we do now?” Madison asked. “Where do we go?”

“Just find a tent and empty space,” he said. “There’s a few sleeping ones, a mess tent…”

“Medical?” I asked. “We’re looking for our friend and they took her to the medical tent.”

“It’s the large white one a block down.”

We thanked him again, and with what little belongings we had, we headed out to find the medical tent.

<><><><>

Despite the fact that there were several large white tents we ended up finding the medical one. In my mind, from all the movies I had seen and books I read, I pictured a tent packed with sick and injured people. That I’d have to walk through aisles of the dying, searching for Ruth.

That wasn’t the case.

Ruth was one of three people in a large tent lined with cots. A worker at the entrance pointed at her bed, positioned in the back. I could hear her talking and that made me feel better, Ruth was recovering. She spoke to another worker who stood by her bed.

“Maybe we should sleep in here,” Madison suggested in a whisper.

“Maybe.”

As we walked closer, I noticed Ruth was holding the workers hand. If he was even a worker at all, he looked like a teenager. Then again, like Ruth, maybe everyone just looked younger to me. The shorter Latino young man was wearing dark blue scrubs. His dark wavy hair was messy, he not only was petite in height but in stature. He peered up to us with these amazingly big eyes when we approached.

“There they are,” Ruth said brightly. “My new adopted daughters. Madison and Lacey. Lacey as in ‘Cagney and’, actually thinking of changing Madison’s name to that…” Ruth paused and noticed the young man shook his head in confusion. “Sorry, that was before your time.”

“How’s she doing?” I asked.

“Great. Fantastic,” he answered softly. “Thanks to you. Thank you. Thank you very much.”

My immediate thought was, ‘aw, look how much this young worker cares.’

“My name is Estaban,” he said. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Isn’t he sweet?” Ruth asked.

“Yes,” Madison answered. “Very.”

“Of course, he is,” Ruth smiled.

Just as Madison made a joking comment that, ‘Someone has the Florence Nightingale effect.’ It hit me.

“Estaban,” I said. “Stevie?”

“Stevie?” Madison repeated with surprise. “Are you the Stevie from the home?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “That’s me.”

“Where the hell did you go?” Madison barked.

I tapped her with the back of my hand. “She didn’t mean for that to come out like that.”

“Yes, I did.” Madison said. “You left a ninety-two year old woman alone.”

Immediately Stevie looked horrified and panicked.

“Be nice,” Ruth said. “He feels really bad.”

“As well as he should,” Madison said. “He left you.”

I swore it looked like the young man was ready to cry. He was completely mortified by Madison’s cross examination.

“Why didn’t you take her?” she asked. “We did.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t think I would be gone that long,” he said. “I didn’t. I went to look for help. I left her food and water and thought I’d get back. I walked east. I got lost. After so long, I had no landmarks to give me direction, everything looked the same. I kept on walking hoping to make it back.” His head lowered almost as if in shame. “I never made it. I had no intention to abandon her. My heart broke. I love Ruth.”

“Shh.” Ruth patted his hand. “It’s fine. I knew you didn’t leave me on purpose. It’s okay.”

I looked over at Madison. She looked like she was in debate over the young man’s story. Me, I believed it.

“How did you get here?” I asked.

“A truck was making a search. They found me. At that point I had walked five days. I told them about Ruth and they said that they could not go into the dead zone. I prayed for her. When I got here, I volunteered.”

I felt bad for Stevie, I really did. It was evident he was torn up about what happened. “The bus will be taking Ruth south,” I said. “To safety. Will you go with her?”

His eyes widened. “Of course I’ll go with her.”

“Good. Good.” I nodded. “That makes me feel better that she won’t be alone.”

Stevie shifted his eyes from Madison to me. “You are not going south? There is trouble coming.”

I shook my head.

“Can I ask why?” asked Ruth.

“We are gonna search for our families,” I said. “Whether they’re still north or they went south, we both need to know. We made a pact.”

Ruth reached out to me and grabbed my hand. “I understand. I really do.”

I felt comfort in her touch, then she released Stevie’s hand and grabbed for Madison.

We stayed in the medical tent for a while with her and Stevie. Talking, planning and hearing stories about Ruth when she was in the assisted living. It was good to see her recovering and I was at ease that she wasn’t going to be alone when she went south. There was a sense of guilt that accompanied my thoughts of leaving her alone.

One thing was for certain, finding Stevie not only made me feel better about Ruth it renewed my faith that miracles could happen. We believed him gone, he wasn’t. That alone was a miracle.

After seeing Stevie, finding my family seemed less of a pipe dream and suicide mission and more of a possibility.

NOTEBOOK – DAY TWENTY

Ev,

I think I met a professional wrestler today. Or a former one. She is a soldier at this camp. She shares our tent with us. Madison told me she is going to challenge her. I thought it was funny. Madison jokes and makes a lot of sarcastic comments. Between you and me, kiddo, I think she uses that as a cover up for a lot of pain. I might be wrong. I am not wrong about missing you with all my heart.

I love you!

Mommy

Twenty-One – The Beast

It was a bit more difficult than just finding a tent to sleep, as instructed by Major Graham. There were several types. There was a tent for women, men, families, and children alone. There was a sense that they did that to bus survivors south by order of importance. That was probably why I saw the little girl on the bus.

We had dinner which consisted of a thick broth soup, crackers and coffee, then finally Madison and I found the women’s tent and took over a corner. Even though the tent was pretty empty except three other women sleeping, we stayed far enough away. Our cots were close, touching head to head and feeling a bit more energized and optimistic, we talked a lot.

There probably wasn’t a reason to be optimistic about things, but considering a few days earlier we hadn’t seen a person, now we were surrounded by people. That was enough of a reason.

I wrote in my journal more names of those who helped us. I didn’t get the names of the soldiers who drove us to Hilltop so they were simply soldier one and soldier two.

I started something new as well. Notes to my family. I wrote down the date and to each of them a small note. It was something I wanted to do for the trip. Give them my thoughts during my progress of making it home or at least to them. I kept them short because it was hard to see and accomplish. I held a flashlight in my hand while I wrote.

“Are you still writing in that journal?” Madison asked, in a whisper.

“Yeah, I write something every day. I just started notes to my family.”

“What are you saying to them?”

“I just told my daughter about Ruth,” I said. “My husband about you. My son about your sons.”

“That’s nice. Silly, but nice.”

“Why is it silly?”

“What if you lose the journal?” she asked.

“I won’t.”

“But what if you do?”

“Then I’ll look at it as…”

“Shh!” Someone called out.

“Sorry,” I said, then lowered my voice. “I’ll look at it as therapy.”

“And if you don’t lose it, won’t you look silly to your family?”

“No,” I said. “Why would I. My husband would love it. My daughter too. Wouldn’t yours?”

“Bruce would make fun of me. Tease me about being so mushy. I had a blog…”

“Shh,” the voice hollered at us again.

Madison rolled to her stomach and continued, “I had a blog. He used to poke fun of it.”

“That’s because he was jealous because he didn’t do it.”

Madison laughed. “I feel very good about this.”

“Me, too.”

“When I met you, I was convinced my family was dead,” she said. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah you did. You believed that there was more out here. You kept me from being negative.”

“Shh.”

“Oh my God,” Madison looked over her shoulder. “Shh. Yourself.”

“We should be quiet,” I said.

“Yeah you should,” the deeper and raspy voice called.

Madison looked at me. “I thought we were in the women’s tent.”

“You are.” The same person said. “I’m a woman.”

Madison widened her eyes. “Anyhow… Did you ever go to camp?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I never did.”

“I did. Once. I got kicked out.”

“You got kicked out? Why?”

“Talking.”

The voice in the darkness called out, “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Why don’t you go back to sleep?” Madison said.

As soon as Madison said that I knew we were in some sort of trouble, I heard the fast rustling of a nylon sleeping bag and then three thumping steps.

I looked up to see a towering woman with shorter hair. Though the tent was dark, there was enough light from the heater to see she was not only tall, but well toned. She stood above us and even though she only wore a tank top and underwear, she was pretty intimidating.

“And why don’t you go to sleep?” she demanded.

“Aren’t you cold?” Madison asked. “It’s freezing in this tent and…”

“No!” she blasted. “I’m tired. I go all day and night. I need to sleep! This isn’t a fucking slumber party. Aren’t you ladies a little too old to be chatting like teenagers?”

“I’ll have you know,” Madison said, “I am only…”

“I don’t care!” She leaned down bringing her face close to Madison. “I don’t… care. Now shut up and go to sleep, or take it somewhere else. Got it?”

The moment she turned and walked away, I did ‘get it’. I sat up and suggested to Madison that we go sit with Ruth.

It was nice to have a little freedom at night, to move around, even if it was to another tent. The camp was well lit and the darkness didn’t seem as thick and frightening.

We visited and stayed with Ruth for a long time, until we felt tired enough to try sleeping again. It wasn’t a very long or restful sleep. Three times I was shook from my sleep by quaking ground. The first two were small, the third one was so violent, there was no going back to sleep.

I sat on the edge of my cot dressing. Madison walked to the entrance.

“Something is going on out there. Everyone is rushing.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Like they’re moving out.”

“For real?” I lifted my sweatshirt over my head and reached for my sneakers. I saw from the corner of my eye, Madison step back and Major Graham enter the tent.

I stood.

“Ladies,” he said. “I guess you see all the commotion out there.”

“What’s going on?” Madison asked.

“We suffered a lot of damage after that last quake. We’re gonna move out more people than we expected today. Your friend, Ruth included.”

“Where are they going?” I questioned. “And please don’t say south.”

He cleared his throat. “South. But…” he lifted his hand. “Some will go to El Paso, Ruth and the others to Laredo. Neither are long-term for them. Just until we can move them to various areas farther south. There are several ships due in from Venezuela coming in from the gulf that will take a lot of refugees. Those camps in Texas will stay as long as possible. I’ll eventually be in Laredo, and will keep an eye out for news of your families. That’s the best I can do.”

I dropped down to the cot. “You weren’t able to find anything out?’

He shook his head. “No. No I wasn’t. I’m sorry. I’ll try, just one more time to convince you to get on one of those buses, or stay here until we move to Laredo?”

“Not me,” Madison said. “I really believe I need to head home.”

“Me, too.”

Graham nodded once. “That’s what I thought you would say. You… you’ll need provisions.” He gave us a once over with his eyes landing on my shoes. “And that footwear isn’t going to cut it. I’ll see what I can find for you ladies.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“Ruth and Estaban will be getting on a bus within the hour, you may want to say goodbye.” He walked back to the door of the tent and stopped. “Look.” He turned around and seemed hesitant about saying anything. “A lot of my people are moving out with those buses. I have very few volunteers. You seem like pretty determined women. I have four short staffed scouting parties going out. Two to the north, one east, one west. They’ll go to small towns, canvass the streets, calling out, looking for survivors, and spreading the word about moving south. Sergeants Callister and Stone are willing to take you along if you are willing to help them. They’re going toward Dallas, then Kansas City and will take you as far as Mt. Carmel.”

Madison gasped. “That’s my home.”

“Yeah, I know. When they told me the route… I asked,” he said. “That’s their last stop before heading south again. If you go, it’ll be a heck of lot quicker than going on your own. It may be some work for you, but…”

Without consulting Madison, I blurted out, “Yes.” Then retracted. “I mean… if you’re willing?” I asked Madison.

“Without a doubt,” Madison said. “Then if Bruce for some reason is still there, which I can see because he’s hard headed, he’ll rig something for us to get to your family. Weirton isn’t that far from there.”

“Good,” Graham said. “Come and find me after you say goodbye to Ruth and I’ll get you outfitted and on the road. Stone and Callister are leaving on the hour.”

It was positive news that we now weren’t going to have to walk or find our own vehicle to get close to home. There wasn’t time to celebrate the good news as we had to hurry if we wanted to see Ruth off.

It was a good thing we rushed.

The camp was really buzzing and people moved about hurriedly, tearing some tents down, carrying boxes, loading trucks. It was as if they were running from something, evacuating from some sort of impending doom.

We made it to the medical tent pretty quickly, but even then, they were already carrying Ruth on a stretcher to the bus.

We had to run to stop them. Stevie saw us and moved the stretcher to the side.

“Hey,” I said to Ruth. She was wrapped tightly in blankets, her tiny face peeked through the folds of fabrics. “We almost didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“It’s not goodbye,” she said. “It’s see you soon.”

I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “Thank you for teaching us so much. You take care of yourself. And you…” I looked at Stevie. “Take care of her.”

“She won’t leave my sight.”

Madison waved her finger at him. “She better not. Or you’ll answer to me when I see you again.” She too leaned over and kissed Ruth, saying her own goodbye.

The bus was leaving soon, and so we were rushed in our goodbye. I was grateful for knowing Ruth and planned to write a special note about her in my journal.

The last thing she told us before getting on the bus was, “Find your families.”

We would. I knew it. We would.

We stayed there watching that bus until it was gone and then we sought out Major Graham.

He stuffed our bags with items he believed we’d need, especially after the two soldiers left us. He also gave us coats, hats, gloves, thicker clothing and special long underwear to save for when we really needed them.

Major Graham was a good man. He didn’t need to help us. He could have just let us go and wished us well. But he didn’t. I would be forever in his debt.

In fact I went on and on about him and Madison joked that she was certain he’d get a whole page in my notebook.

Major Graham wished us luck, bid us farewell and had to go about his day. He told us to wait by the tan Humvee for Stone and Callister.

It didn’t look like a normal Humvee. It had a plow on it, and an extended back like a pickup truck. The back was filled with supplies and gas cans.

“You our new recruits?” I felt a smack to my back and watched the man toss a duffle in the back of the Humvee. “I’m Sergeant Stone.”

Sergeant Stone reminded me of a gruffer, slightly older version of Major Graham.

“As soon as Callie gets here, we’ll head out.” He paused. “First Sergeant Callister.”

I nodded that I understood.

“I’m getting her started, you might as well jump in.” He opened a back door then got in the driver’s seat.

I slid in first, then Madison. I wondered if she was as nervous as I was. Then no sooner were we in, Sergeant Callister opened the passenger side and peered back at us. It was none other than the same woman who scolded us the night before.

Madison exhaled so loudly I heard it. “Oh, boy,’ she said.

If I thought Sergeant Callister looked threatening in her underwear, it was nothing compared to how intimidating she looked in full uniform, holding an assault rifle.

She got in and slammed the door.

“Hey, Callie,” Stone said. “Did you meet…?”

“We met,” she said. “Drive.”

“Okay.” He started the engine.

I looked at Madison. Not only was it going to be an interesting journey, it was probably going to be a quiet one as well.

TWENTY-TWO – Veer

The plan was to head east toward Laredo, then north. There was supposed to be an expedient camp just a few miles west of the city. Stone informed us that we had to check out smaller towns, encourage people to move south, and look for displaced citizens.

A huge problem was the amount of daylight. It couldn’t even be considered daylight. It loomed overhead, the temperatures still hadn’t plummeted in Arizona, although they hovered around fifty.

Stone didn’t run or need to run the heat in the Humvee. We stopped after two hours to add more gas, then kept going until we stopped for the night. If we drove straight, we would have made a lot of distance, but we stopped frequently. Each town and area resembling the previous one. Gray and abandoned.

Just before arriving at the Arizona and New Mexico border, we ran into our first obstacle, and it was a big one.

Stone stopped the vehicle just in time. The highway dropped off. The overpass section that extended over a small canyon had fallen. There was no way around, or through.

All of us stepped out.

Immediately, Callie, the woman without words, whipped out a map and spread it on the hood.

“What do you got?” Stone asked, looking over her shoulder.

“Just looking.”

So was I. Not at the map but at everything around us. The ash was lighter and that was a hopeful thing for me.

“You okay?” Madison asked.

“Yeah, just looking out. Thinking. Wondering if those who are trying to go south get stuck because of things like this.” I pointed to the road, then turned to listen to what Callie and Stone were discussing.

“We could…” Stone said. “Back track this length of the highway, looks like twenty miles, head south then east and trek north. Or go north and head east…”

“We were on a direct path. Back peddling, going north then south, it’s a waste of time and fuel. Are we picking up anything at that camp?”

Stone shook his head. “No. We’re just the scouting party for any survivors.”

“Then they’re on their own.” Callie rolled up the map. “Let scrap it and head to Kansas. We have about four small towns to check. We aren’t reaching them before nightfall.”

“Want to check out a place on the map. Make a stopping point?” Stone asked.

“We can set a destination stop but… if dark hits first, we’ll just bunk in the truck.”

“Deal,” he said and stepped back to the driver’s door.

Callie walked from the hood and looked at us. It seemed like she almost forgot we were there. Maybe because every time one of us talked, she cleared her throat and made it feel uncomfortable. I wasn’t complaining though, we had a ride a good bit of the way. That was more than we could have hoped or even planned for when we decided not to go south with the bus.

The biggest mistake we made, once we backtracked the twenty miles was opting to stay north instead of veering east when we saw the exit thirty miles into the northern route.

Madison suggested it. The roads were only lightly covered with a dusting of ash when we sat at a sign for an east bound highway. “Maybe we should get off and go east,” Madison said. “Kansas is north and east of here. It may not be a good idea to keep going north.”

Neither Stone or Callie responded. Her words fell on deaf ears.

“Major Graham said you volunteered to take us. Why?” I asked. “I mean if you aren’t gonna talk to us or listen, why did you agree to take us.”

Callie looked over her shoulder at me. “You’re bodies that will help us look through towns. No more. No less. We don’t need to include you. We’re taking you… remember. We’re doing you a favor.”

With a quiet whispering, “Wow,” I sat back.

“What is your name?” Madison asked.

“Which one of us?” Callie replied.

“You. What’s your first name?”

“Mine’s Bill if you care,” Stone said.

“Why does it matter?” Callie asked.

“I’m curious,” Madison said.

With a huff, Callie answered. “Mary.”

“Mary, huh? Why are you so angry?” Madison asked. “I mean aside from us talking, why are you so angry?”

“Really? You have to ask that?” Callie snapped. “Have you looked outside?’

“That’s out of our control. We can be upset, sad, depressed, just anger isn’t…”

“I can be whatever I want, Madison. Who are you to tell me how I can or cannot feel? I can be mad, bitter,” Callie nearly growled and faced the front of the car, not looking back at us and she went off. “Wait. No ‘can be’ about it, I am mad that this is happening. Surprise my ass. They say, ‘oh we only had twelve hours.’ Yeah, well maybe if I had that twelve hours warning I could have left town. Maybe if I had twelve hours, I wouldn’t have been in our house when it folded under that quake. When our roof collapsed right on us. When it missed me and hit my husband who was holding our son.”

“Callie…” Stone tried to cut her off.

“No, she asked,” Callie said. “She can talk to me about anger when she holds her dying child in her arms and there’s nothing she can do about it.”

“Callie.’ Stone was firm.

Softly, Madison peeped out. “I have.” Then she grabbed and cradled that locket and lowered her head.

In that immediate tense silence, I reached out and grabbed Madison’s hand.

Callie cleared her throat and spoke the words as if she struggled to say them. “I’m sorry for that. For your loss.”

“I’m sorry for yours, too. I am,” Madison said.

Then the quiet resumed.

It wasn’t for long, though, within another twenty miles, the ash was so deep, Stone lowered the plow.

“Stop,” Callie instructed. “Just stop.”

“No… we’ll just… go,” Stone said.

“It’s getting worse. Stop,” Callie said. “Turn around and find that last exit east.”

“We’re wasting daylight.”

“Then we waste daylight!” Callie yelled. “It’s better than wasting our lives because we get trapped and buried. Turn it around.”

Stone did. He stopped and carefully backed up and turned around. It didn’t take long to get out of that deep ash. I watched as Callie marked the map, shading in the area on the map we had just driven from.

The deep ash was closer than we anticipated. Which had me wondering how far north and east it really went.

NOTEBOOK – DAY TWENTY-ONE

Jana,

Well, right now we are sitting in the middle of a road. I don’t know if it’s a side street, major roadway or what. It is so dark. The ash has given everything sound proofing. It’s really weird. The two soldiers taking us are not very talkative. I guess they have––

Twenty-Two – Crushed

When there’s no power, no moon visible, there is nothing. The world becomes a void, an infinite blank space.

Stone wanted to push forward, but even I grew nervous. The headlights did nothing, and the spotlights didn’t help either. There were no white lines to follow, the light covering on the road made it impossible to tell which direction to drive. Which way the road turned.

“We have four miles to the next town,” Stone said. “We’ll take it slow and head there.”

I swear I held my breath those four miles. But there was no town right off the exit, only what I believed was a secondary road with the town another eight miles.

We had pushed it far longer than I would have. Hours beyond the moment it got dark. Stone claimed he used his instincts and the map to gauge the way of the road.

It was sheer luck until a deer darted out across the road. We skid on the ash trying to stop and nipped its hind end.

My heart pounded out of my chest.

“Shut it down,” Callie ordered. “We’ll bunk in the truck.”

“We have nearly ten hours until daylight. What the hell are we gonna do.”

“Eat, sleep, she can write in her notebook, I don’t care. We stop for the night.” Callie looked out the window.

“Want to set up camp?” Stone asked.

“Where?” Callie lifted her hands. “Do you see anything out there? Maybe if we stopped when I wanted to, two hours ago, when there was a hint of light, we could have. Right now… I can’t see if there’s even a fucking tree. No. it’s safer in the truck. We bunk in here.”

“Safer from what?” Stone asked.

She only shook her head in disgust.

I looked over at Madison. “These two fight like a married couple,” I whispered.

“Tell me about it. It’s entertaining,” Madison whispered as well.

“Are you guys thinking we can’t hear you?” Callie asked.

With four people in the Humvee, it was actually pretty warm. Stone kept the engine running for a little bit, then shut it off and told us to deal with it. We ate cold MRE’s and talked very little. Madison seemed to drift away in thought, then as the night wound down, I began to write in my notebook. I wrote a note to my son, then husband and finally my daughter.

‘Jana,’ I wrote to her. ‘Well, right now we are sitting in the middle of a road. I don’t know if it’s a side street, major roadway or what. It is so dark….’

“Hey,” Madison nudged me. “I have to go pee.”

“Okay, hold on, I’ll go with you.”

“No, I’m fine, I’ll be right outside the door.”

Callie mumbled. “Take the light.”

“I’m not nuts,” Madison said. “And I don’t feel like peeing on myself.”

She grabbed the small lantern and opened the door. I had been writing with the dim flashlight and my eyes had adjusted. When the interior light came on, I felt like it blinded me. I wished she would have left the door open, but she didn’t. I suppose she wanted privacy.

I returned to my writing. The glow from her lantern carried into the Humvee.

Back to Jana, ‘The ash has given everything a sound proofing. It’s really weird. The two soldiers taking us are not very talkative. I guess they have…’

I stopped because I couldn’t see. Was my flashlight growing even dimmer?

Just as I hit it against my hand, I realized, not only was my flashlight dying, Madison’s lantern was out. There was no light coming from outside.

“Shit,” I said and reached for the car door.

“What is it?” Callie asked.

“Her light went out.” I tried shining my flashlight through the window, but it only came back at me and then it died.

I reached again for the handle and opened the door slightly. I figured her lantern had burned out and there she was peeing in the dark. The interior light would help her.

“Madison,” I called out.

Nothing.

“Madison.”

Slam!

The Humvee door was shoved closed and I jumped back with a shriek.

“Oh my God.”

“Stay put,” Callie stated.

I could hear her and Stone grabbing weapons, they both opened the doors at the same time and jumped out.

Inside I could see their flashlight beams dancing against the black. My heart beat a million times a minute. Where was Madison? Fearful and alone, I opened the door and stepped out.

“I told you to stay in there,” Callie said.

It was cold and I folded my arms close to my body. “Why aren’t you calling for her?”

“Shh.” Callie instructed.

I inched closer to her, standing next to Callie. I wanted to see what she saw. She was facing the back end of the Humvee, Stone facing forward. Both of them scanned the darkness with their spotlights.

Then I heard it, I believe we all heard it. It sounded like a muffled grunt. Quickly, Callie pulled out her pistol, engaged the chamber and with it aimed outward and ready in one hand, she held the spot light in the other. Both hands close, she was focused.

She shifted the beam left and right. Even dark, I could see the intensity on her face, the glow in her eyes from the reflection of the beam. She didn’t blink.

Left, right, she moved it. It merely looked like she was shining the light on a black wall.

“Stone,” Callie said. “It’s coming from back here. Hit the big lights.”

“Roger that,” Stone said.

Left, Right.

Where was Madison? Why weren’t they calling out? What was taking the spotlights so long? He needed to just flip that switch on the dash.

Left, right, dark, nothing.

A man.

Just as she moved the light to the left again, the figure of a man was there and taking Callie by surprise he sailed in a punch that knocked the big woman off balance and flying back. Her spot light flew from her grip, shooting a stream of light over the ash. I heard the grunts, the struggles, and the sound of fist hitting flesh.

“Stone!” I called out.

He didn’t answer. What happened to Stone? With Madison missing, Callie attacked, it made sense something happened with him, as well.

A wave of panic smacked me, and I had to get it together. Think. Think. I moved back quickly, felt for the vehicle and whipped open the back door for light.

Immediately, I saw Callie and a man entangled in a fight. He was on top of her and although she fought back, she couldn’t break free. She pushed with one hand while desperately extending the other.

Her gun.

She was reaching for her pistol.

The interior light illuminated the weapon and I charged forth for it, snatching it from the ash. It was still engaged.

Even with my hands shaking, I aimed outward, but they rolled in their battle, from the golden hue of the interior light into blackness.

The spotlight. The interior light only lit up so much, the big lights on the Humvee would brighten a circumference.

I hurriedly, back up for the Humvee, turned and reached for the driver’s door. When I did, my foot hit against something.

‘Oh God,’ I thought. I didn’t need to look down, I didn’t want to look down, I knew it was a body.

Opening the door as fast as I could added more light and I saw Stone laying on the ground by the door. I closed my eyes tightly, and blindly reached in, feeling for that switch. Once my finger touched it, I turned it on and the area lit up. I spun around for a full charge back to Callie, when a man, another man, stepped before me.

I didn’t breathe, move or panic, I just fired the weapon. He was so close, I couldn’t miss. The shot hit him center chest, and the force of the close range gunshot, sent him down to the ground.

It was an instant pause on everything.

The assailant over Callie, had his hands on her throat and he looked up in shock at the sound.

The second his head raised, I fired again.

That moment when he fell to the side and Callie rolled him from her and sat up… that moment, I shook. Every part of me shook. No amount of crisis training at work, monthly required classes at the range, simulated sieges of our office, none of that shit prepared me for that moment.

Good or bad men, I took two lives.

Two.

The pistol toppled from my hand, my knees weakened, and just as Callie coughed and stood, I saw her.

Madison.

Where the glow of the spotlight met the dark, Madison was huddled on her hands and knees.

Callie approached me. “Thank you. Are you…”

I didn’t hear what else she said, I raced straight to Madison. I dropped to the ground right by her, sending a cloud of ash into the air.

“Oh my God,” I said. “Are you okay?”

She lifted her head, her long hair dangled in her face. Her cheeks were streaked with dirt. It was hard to see how badly she was hurt, but I could see the blood on her lip and running from her nose.

Frantically she shook her head. “They grabbed me. They…” she spoke through hyperventilated breaths. “They were waiting on you.”

“How bad are you hurt?” I asked. “Where did they hurt you?” I reached out to her.

She kept shaking her head, crying.

I heard the thumping footsteps, and looked up to see Callie.

“Are there any more?” she asked Madison. “Did you see any more than two men?”

Madison shook her head.

“I’ll be back. Stone’s been stabbed. He’s alive. I have to stop the bleeding. How badly are you hurt?”

“I’ll figure that out,” I said. “Go help Stone.”

Callie nodded once, backed up and then stopped. “Thank you again, Lacey.” She turned and ran back to the Humvee.

“Madison…” I reached again to her.

She pulled back, spun around and resumed her position on her hands and knees. She moved in circles, her hands flung through the ash, and with each swipe of the substance, she sobbed out an aching cry.

“Madison, what is it? Stop. I need to know if you’re hurt.”

“I don’t know and I don’t care. Please… please help me,” she looked at me. “Please.”

“Help you with what?”

“Help me find it.” She placed her hand on her chest. “They tore off my locket.”

Hearing that, my heart sunk. The desperation, the crying, they didn’t hurt her physically as much as they killed Madison emotionally. After telling her I’d be right back, I sought out, the working spotlight and joined Madison.

It didn’t matter how dark it was or how futile the search seemed, I just knew I had to look for that locket with her, until I couldn’t look anymore.

<><><><>

Earlier, Stone complained that we would have nothing to do, that the ten hours until daylight would lag. How wrong he was.

Stone was stabbed in the side, fortunately, the blade hit the flank. Callie put a field dressing on it and gave him some antibiotics. Her biggest concern was the head injury, they had knocked him out. This was all information she conveyed while she tended to him. Once he was stabilized, she came over to us.

“I need to see if she’s okay,” Callie said. “Madison.”

We had moved some. Trying to figure out where she was grabbed, how far she was dragged and where exactly the locket came off. It was difficult, because it was still so dark.

“Can I ask what you’re doing?” Callie asked.

“Her locket,” I said. “They ripped it from her. It’s very special.”

“It was all I had left of my daughter,” Madison said. “Her ashes and now it’s lost…” she released a defeated sob. “In the ashes.”

“Look, you aren’t going to find it out here,” Callie said. “It’s too…”

“I have to look!” Madison blasted.

“I know you do. But it’s too dark to see.”

“We want to find it before you leave,” I said.

“I won’t leave without it, I won’t. You can go. I can’t leave without it.” Madison kept looking. “It’s all I have left of her. It’s all I have.”

I expected Callie to say something cold, crass, but instead she surprised me.

“Then we won’t leave until you find it,” Callie said. “We’ll look again when it’s light and we won’t stop. But come to the truck, let’s check you out, get you some water, clear your head, and as soon as there is any light, I’ll get out there myself and help you look. Deal?”

Both Madison and I just looked up at her.

We made the deal. Madison needed a break. She needed to clean her wounds. Her nose was broken, her face full of abrasions, lip split, and it looked like her wrist was in pretty bad shape.

I saw a different side of Callie. She was still rugged, but she cared.

It also was obvious to me, she was shaken as well. Not only was Madison’s face a mess, so was Callie’s.

I offered to help her. She declined, but asked for one of my airline bottles of vodka. I gladly obliged.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” Callie asked.

“Work,” I said. I handed Madison a bottle. She took it, but kept staring out the window, waiting on the little bit of daylight.

“Where did you work?” Callie asked.

“Public housing complex. We dealt a lot with cash and were robbed one month like four times. They decided when a coworker was shot that we needed classes. We had a gun in the office and each of us had to be certified to use it.” I shrugged. “I never thought I would.”

“I’m glad you did.”

There wasn’t much talking the remainder of the night. Stone kept falling in and out of consciousness, but he seemed to improve.

At the first sign of light, Madison raced from the Humvee. Keeping true to her word, on her hands and knees Callie joined us in the search. With some daylight, it was easier, but still, a silver locket buried in ash was a needle in a haystack.

Finally, hours later, I knew Callie had found it.

She was by the rear tire on the driver’s side, when she went from her knees to a sitting position, staring at her hand. “Madison,” she called out softly.

Madison scurried over, and when Callie placed it in her hand, my friend clutched it and sobbed. After a few moments, she uncurled her fingers and showed it to me.

The chain was gone, probably broken and lost in the scuffle, but the chain wasn’t what was important. The locket was.

The open locket was more than likely stepped on during the exchange. It was dented and dangling on its hinges. Even though it was damaged, what was important still remained. While the covering on the picture side was cracked, the picture of her daughter was still there, and even more than that, the ashes were undisturbed in their tiny locket size urn.

We spent hours on the side of the road searching. After it was found, we were able to get moving. I felt horrible for Madison, she couldn’t process that her precious locket had been so badly damaged. It broke my heart to see it.

We were moving forward on our journey, but I really believed that Madison was going to have a hard time moving passed what had happened. How could she not? A part of her, both physically and emotionally was crushed on the side of the road the night before.

Notebook – Day Twenty-THREE

It was a hard day, and before that an even harder night.

All we can do is move forward.

Some things are better left unsaid.

Love

Mom/Lace

TWENTY-THREE – Burned out

Sometime during the night, Sergeant Bill Stone passed away. It was unexpected as we had believed he was holding his own. He didn’t talk much, but he responded when spoken to. We should have known. Despite Callie giving him antibiotics, with the ash and wherever that knife was, his wound was bound to be infected. Plus he suffered a head injury. Stone did tell us he had a headache and his stab wound felt as if it were burning. After finding the locket we only drove for a few hours and pulled over in an abandoned convenience store parking lot to set up camp.

He drank some water, didn’t eat, and said he just needed to rest.

I didn’t think twice about it. None of us did.

With so many people dead, he didn’t need to leave us so senselessly. I was really sad and I felt horrible on so many levels. I didn’t check on him, offer him more water or see if he needed anything. None of that. I truly did not think his life hung in the balance.

Poor Stone died alone in that small tent while Callie slept in the truck and I tried to distract Madison by taking her in the store and gathering what we could.

We went about our business feeling as if we just should let Stone rest.

No one deserves to die alone

He did.

Callie said when she went to wake him his body was already hard, cold and had started to darken. He had been gone for a couple hours.

There was no way with the ground covered and hard that we could bury him. Even if we found a spot, it wasn’t right. We were two days from the Kansas camp. He was a soldier, he served his country, we’d take him there and hopefully he would get a decent burial. One he deserved. The temperature was low enough. We wrapped Stone in a covering and lay him in the back of the Humvee.

I asked Callie to tell me about him, more than I had picked up in small conversation. I wanted to add more about Stone in my notebook.

She didn’t give up much. He was recently divorced, no kids, was one of six children and grew up on a farm in Nebraska.

I didn’t expect too much from her. Callie was beside herself. She tried to put on this tough act, but I could tell she was heartbroken. They had known each other a long time. This was evident when she complained she wasn’t feeling well and asked if I could drive.

I was the only one of us three not injured. I gladly took over that job, while she was co pilot, directing and instructing me as I drove through the increasingly ash filled wasteland.

About an hour before the sky would start to darken, Callie with the map in her hand, said, “The exit for Stone Horse Ridge is about six miles up. We should stop there for the night. I know it’s early, but I’m tired.”

“I understand,” I said.

“We’ll still make our Kansas stop day after tomorrow.”

“That’s fine.” I focused on driving because about twenty miles earlier things started to look different. The feel of the road was rougher as if we drove over rocks, and the ash was darker. The farther we drove, the more everything looked dead. South, at least some of the trees kept their green. Where we were, they were dying, there were no leaves and the temperature dropped drastically.

“What’s that smell?” Madison said from the back.

“It couldn’t be Stone, could it?” I asked.

“No. I know dead bodies. That’s not it.”

She wound down the window and I felt the cold air smack against the back of my neck.

“Smell it?” she asked.

It was a distinctive smell. It was reminiscent of that smell that emitted from a hot oven when grease or food had dripped from the pan to the bottom. That smell that flowed out and filled the house while you preheated the stove.

That was the smell.

Burning, old, odd.

“Do you smell it?” Madison asked again.

“Yes, I smell it,” I said.

“Please wind up the window,” Callie requested.

Madison did.

The smell lessened, but it remained with the chill in the vehicle.

All I could think of was something burned or smoldered, something big.

We continued driving the rest of the short distance, with each mile, the smell grew stronger even with the windows up.

After exiting, I saw the sign pointing right indicating Stone Horse Ridge was one mile down the road. I could see it in the distance, but I could also see that stopping there wasn’t the best option.

It was apparent that some sort of unsuccessful exodus had taken place. Something caused traffic to come to a screeching halt. No one got out and though cast in some sort of haze, I could see the automobile filled road that blocked us from going any farther.

Like I had seen for miles prior, about six inches of dark ash covered the road. The left side of the road was lined with dead brush and oddly to the right, in the distance, a single story house looked unscathed.

I stopped the Humvee about a hundred feet before the sea of cars. “What now?” I asked. “Back up and go on the highway?”

“No.” Callie shook her head. “We can camp here. Lot of dust in the air, we need masks.” She peered to the windshield. “We have about an hour left. We should head into town and see if anyone is there.” She grabbed facemasks and tossed them to us.

“Really?” Madison asked. “I’m thinking we don’t want to see what’s in that town.”

“Yeah, well, I’m thinking it’s my job to… see what’s in that town,” Callie said to her then looked at me. “You coming?”

“Yeah.” I told her.

“Madison,” Callie looked back as she reached for her weapon. “You can stay if you…”

“No. I’ll go.”

Just before she got out, Callie handed me a pistol. “Just in case.”

I nodded and took it.

“Masks,” Callie instructed,

I lifted mine over my nose and mouth. The moment my foot hit the ground I knew things were different. I didn’t sink into a soft velvety powder, my boots crunched in the ash. It was more like rock. In fact there were a lot of rocks, then again, we were headed into a desert town.

The first four cars in the exodus were parked sideways almost as if they skidded to a stop.

The ‘blip-blip’ sound caused me to turn around, Callie had locked the doors to the Humvee and shouldered not only a weapon, but her bag.

“Someone’s there,” Madison said softy. “Ahead. In the cars.”

The vehicles were still a good hundred feet away and though shrouded by the ash fog, I too saw the figure standing at the front of the line of cars.

With each step I took, I saw more people standing there.

What were they waiting for? Were they watching us?

Like driving through the fog, the closer were got, the clearer things were.

Dozens of people were by their cars.

“Are they waiting for something?” Madison asked. “They’re looking up.”

Callie stopped walking. “Something’s wrong. They aren’t moving.”

Twenty feet from the cars everything came into focus.

Car doors were open and the people… they weren’t standing as much as leaning. Propped against the cars like unbalanced statues.

They were dead. They died where they stood… frozen instantly in time.

Twenty-four – Pompeii

Callie was thrown by the view. She turned away, trying to be strong, yet I could see she was catching her bearings and getting it together to move forward.

It was a shock to see, I instantly grew sick to my stomach and couldn’t move. Madison on the other hand seemed unfazed. Maybe it was all that she had been through, I didn’t know. I swore she also seemed enthralled.

“Look at them,” Madison said. “Look.”

“I am. I did.” I murmured.

The windows of the cars were blackened, it didn’t look like glass. Every car was covered in inches of that dark ash. Not only that, scattered everywhere, even on the hoods of the vehicles were large rocks.

The fine detailed features of the people were hard to see, their eyes, nose and fingers were undefined. Outlines of clothing were easy to make out. Some stood with their arms over their heads, some looked as if they cowered. They seemed like store mannequins, posed by God, then covered protectively, like a layer of clay poured over their bodies to preserve them for all eternity.

It wasn’t clay though; it was whatever fell from the sky. A different type of ash, it fell fast, covering them completely, slowing, and possibly even stalling any decomposition.

Callie led the way, walking slowly, through the maze of cars and people. “The cars all died at the same time,” she said.

At first I didn’t know why she said that, but as I stepped farther, I could see some cars had crashed into each other.

I was so grateful that the windows were blackened, that I couldn’t see inside. I didn’t want to look and see families, children. I focused on what was ahead. Six blocks of cars then the small town. It looked untouched. Then again, I was looking at it from a distance and through a dirty mist that acted as a Pleasantville filter, making everything seem black and white and fine from a distance.

“This is unreal,” Madison said. “Look at this man.”

I turned around to see Madison staring at one of the statue people. Clearly it was a man, his hand rested on the hood of the small car, while his other arm slung over the door.

“Madison, come on,” I called to her.

“I wonder what he was thinking,” Madison said. “Do you suppose he knew what was coming?” She reached for the man. The second her hand touched him, his corpse broke in two. The lower half, tilted and fell toward her and his top half, crumbled when it hit the ground. His arm remained on the door.

I screamed. To me it was horrifying.

Madison just looked at me.

Had she snapped? Why wasn’t she reacting?

“Get it together,” Callie instructed.

It took a few moments, but I did, then rushed closer to Callie. Madison trailed behind.

“Look.” Callie pointed down. “Footprints. Someone is here, or was.” She looked up to the sky. “Ash is still falling. I’m gonna guess they aren’t long gone if they left.”

“It’s a man,” I said. “Look how big that footprint is.”

When I said that, Callie stomped her foot next to the print creating an impression the same size. She glared at me.

“Okay a man or a big woman,” I said.

Callie moved on.

I stayed close to her. Eventually Madison caught up to us when we cleared the cars.

It wasn’t any better in town. Bodies were in the street, some lay, some kneeled. There was a coffee shop at the edge of town, and the window was only partially blackened. Inside, pressed against that window were at least six people. Hands and faces pressed against the pane that had a single crack in it.

“Thermal shock,” Madison said. “Or therma. No, wait, it’s thermal.”

“What are you talking about?” Callie asked.

“What killed them? Thermal shock.” Madison looked at me. “Didn’t you listen to Ruth? Maybe not. You may have been sleeping. Ruth told me about it.”

“Ruth?” Callie asked. “The older woman with you?”

“Yeah,” Madison nodded. “She is brilliant. She was a professor. Your peers would be smart to tap her for info. She’s a vat.”

“I remember her talking about suffocation,” I said. “Not shock.”

“Thermal shock,” Madison corrected. “She said when you’re so close that one of the surges of cloud will be like five hundred degrees. Instant death and while the body doesn’t burn, it causes like an instant rigor mortis. Look at the fingers curled up.” She pointed to the coffee shop window. “Bet their feet are pointed…”

“Okay. All right,” Callie stopped. “But which one…” She pulled out that map again. “It’s not on this map, the other one we marked for areas of a possible Yellowstone eruption. We’re in New Mexico, it could have been ash from Yellowstone, but it’s not close enough to burn these people out like this.”

“Is there a volcano in New Mexico?” I asked.

“Several. Small but some are considered active.”

“Jesus,” Madison gasped. “Did every volcano blow?”

“Starting to look that way.” Callie folded her map. “Now let’s see if we can find this person that has been walking in town.”

We followed the tracks as best as we could. Sometimes they disappeared within the rocks, but we’d spread out to look.

Several blocks in the right direction, Callie pointed to a second set of tracks. Not footprints but rather small wheels, they weren’t always visible. We followed them down a residential street lined with single story houses and sporadic mobile homes.

A stucco style home was down on the left and became clearer with each step. I imagined the stucco was once cream colored, but it was blackened on the west side. It was surrounded by a small fence and there was a tent set up in the front parking pad. A man stood there, he didn’t move.

To me, we had found yet another Stone Horse resident transformed into a present day Pompeii remnant.

“Wanna break this guy too?” Callie asked Madison.

“Oh, that’s so wrong,” Madison replied.

“Guys,” I spoke up. “He’s not dead.”

He must have been shocked when he saw us, startled to a standstill but then he lifted his hand and waved. I rushed forward at the same time he did.

One would have believed we knew each other. We didn’t. We had a common bond. Survivors in a dead, burned out world.

He embraced me with gratefulness. I could feel it in his hold. I didn’t even get a good look at him, I was too busy hugging the stranger.

After he pulled back, he squeezed my arms, the turned to Madison and embraced her. He repeated it with Callie, who looked like she was going to pat his head.

To us he was a find and I guess we were to him, as well.

My mind spun with a ton of questions. Who was he? How did he survive? Why was he camped out on a driveway?

We followed the tracks and found him. Now it was time to get to know him. We were stopping for the day anyhow. Hopefully he was safe. We’d find out soon enough.

TWENTY-FIVE – FORGET ME NOTS

He had a bandit style handkerchief over his mouth and nose so it was hard to see his face. His eyes had crow’s feet, so I knew he wasn’t young. He wore a knitted cap over his head and a hoodie covered by an open trench coat. All of which were dusted with ash.

“I swear,” he said. “I swear I thought everyone was dead.” He lowered his handkerchief. “Delvin, Delvin Newburg.” He shook all of our hands with enthusiasm. “It’s so good to see people.” He backed up and swung a hand back toward his tent. “I don’t have much. Can I offer you food, water, coffee?”

Callie shook her head. “We’re good. Thank you.”

Immediately, without saying anything, Delvin went into the open garage and pulled out lawn chairs, three of them for us. “Have a seat. They aren’t burnt. I got my camping stuff from the garage,” he said. “Thank God. Because I couldn’t go in the house. I saw… I saw they were in there.”

“Who?” I asked as I took my seat.

He lowered his head. “My family. I just moved them here. I’m on the road a lot. Figured my wife and kids should be with her mom. I was on the road when it happened.

Callie sat down. “How long have you been camping out here?”

“Three days, maybe four.” Delvin scratched his head. “I lost count.”

“Can I ask why?” Callie questioned.

“Why not? That’s my family. My wife. My three kids. Mother in law. All I have. I figured I would just stay here until I joined them. Where else am I gonna go?”

“South,” Callie said.

Delvin waved out his hand. “I had my chance to go south. I missed that boat. I had to come home. I had to find them.”

I knew exactly what he meant, how he felt.

“Where were you?” I asked. “You said you work out of town.”

“I’m on the road a lot. I’m a sales rep. Ever see the movie Tommy Boy. That’s me. I go to businesses and try to get them to stock our product. I was in Cleveland when it happened.”

I gasped. “Cleveland is not far from my home or my mom. How is it? What’s going on out east?”

“Not what’s going on here, that’s for sure,” he added a chuckle of disbelief while he spoke. “Sun’s blocked, so it’s cold. Getting colder by the day. At first everyone kind of just… hung tight. Tried to get word on what happened, find out about loved ones out west. But most people were told that chance of survival for those close to the coast was unlikely. And the area was volatile so they weren’t sending crews yet, if at all.”

“Who told?” Callie asked. “I mean, I know our base works on a message relay system. No long range communication.”

Delvin nodded. “Same way, back there. There’s no power, so they have generators running. Forget solar generators. Not enough light for that. It took only a half day for the eastern skies to get gray. We knew it was coming.”

“What did you hear happened?” I asked.

“The Ring of Fire just blew. I heard not all four hundred and fifty volcanoes, but a lot of them. I don’t believe it. But without a doubt, volcanoes blew. Multiple. Notice the days, if that’s what you call them, are getting shorter. Pretty soon, another three weeks, it will barely be lighter than dusk.”

“We heard,” Callie said, “that a planetary body caused it. Did you hear anything about that?”

Again, Delvin nodded. “Yeah. I heard it came too close causing things to go crazy. Others said it hit the other side of the moon, nipped it, sending pieces flying to earth and that’s what started it. I’d wager on the later. I mean, I felt that earthquake. It knocked the power out everywhere. I saw things fall from the sky. Like a daylight falling star.”

“Doug told us he saw things falling, too,” I said. “Doug was a pilot we met.”

Delvin shrugged. “No one is gonna know, really, until things get up and running again. If they get up and running.” He glanced up to Madison. “You can sit down. Please don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not,” Madison said. “I’m sorry, I was just listening.” Finally she held out her hand as she took a seat. “Madison Hollister. Nice to meet you.”

He tilted his head. “Well that is a sign.”

“What is?” Madison asked.

“Your last name, Delvin said. “The last person I saw, before heading out here, was one of my favorite clients. His last name is Hollister.”

“What do you sell?” Madison asked.

“Safety features for cars.”

I saw Madison’s face. Her expression dropped. “Where… where was this guy?”

“Mt. Carmel.”

“Oh my God,” Madison gasped. “Bruce?”

Delvin’s eyes widened. “Yes. Holy shit. Yes. Bruce Hollister. Big guy. Best mechanic in the world. Owns Body Savers.”

Madison shrieked. “He’s okay? The boys?”

“Fine. They’re great. I stayed the night at your house,” Delvin said. “I had been traveling. Hitching a ride here and there. Trying to get home. There was a military set up outside of Mt. Carmel. When I got there, I looked for Bruce. He’s the one that got me a vehicle that got me close enough to walk the last forty miles. He’s a great guy.”

“Wait… Delvin. Del. You’re Del?” Madison asked.

“I am.”

As if she just met him, Madison jumped up and embraced him. “I heard so much about you. You met with Bruce before I left for California. You were selling those, Forget me Nots.”

“I was. Bruce ordered some,” Del said. “Even though he wasn’t sure he’d sell them.”

“What are Forget me Nots?” I asked.

Delvin stood, walked into the tent, came out a few seconds later and handed me a plastic button about two inches around. It looked like a flower. “That is a Forget me Not. It runs on a button cell battery, so it lasts a long time. It’s got Bluetooth. Hooks on to the fastener on a baby car seat, connects automatically to an app on your phone. Get farther than ten feet from it, alarm goes off.”

Callie reached for it. “Amazing. No more forgotten babies.”

“That was the theory,” Delvin said. “It had downfalls. I mean if someone forgot their phone in the car too. Everything has a downside.”

“You said Bruce and the boys are fine,” Madison said. “Were they heading south?”

Delvin nodded. “They planned on it. Bruce though, was waiting on you. He didn’t believe for a second you were dead. Told me he knew you so well, he could feel it, you were alive and coming home. He was just gonna wait a little longer with the boys and head out. Trust me, that man has it together. He has a survival plan.”

“My family is alive. They’re alive,” Madison gushed. “They’re alive Lacey and waiting on me.”

I reached over and hugged her.

Excitedly, she grasped my hand. “All we have to do is get to my house, if Bruce is there, we’ll go ahead to get your family. If not, I bet he left word at the house.” She looked at Delvin. “Would he leave word, a note maybe?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.”

Madison was thrilled and I was thrilled for her. She not only received confirmation that her family was well, but also they didn’t doubt for one second, she wasn’t alive. I hoped my family was the same that they believed in my survival, because I believed so much in theirs.

<><><><><>

Del, as I started to call him, invited us to camp with him. Madison immediately accepted, forming an instant bond that made me just a little envious.

What were the odds? She knew him. Half a country from home, the world falling apart and she finds someone that is a friend and a business associate of her husband.

Somehow though, knowing Madison, that didn’t surprise me.

I wanted to write in my journal, and though Del had a campfire, there wasn’t as much protection from the dust and elements as the Humvee.

It was half a mile away from Del’s house.

Callie declined without hesitation. “I really don’t feel comfortable with everything we have being left in that truck.”

“I can promise you I haven’t seen a person in hundreds of miles,” he said.

“Yeah, well, we did,” Callie said. “And they weren’t good people.”

“I understand,” he said.

“Plus, I have a friend still at the truck,” Callie said.

She was referring to Stone. Callie didn’t elaborate on that friend, but when I walked back to the Humvee with her, I guessed that Madison would fill him in.

It was cold, really cold. My fingers were tingling from it, and I just wanted to get warm.

When we arrived at the Humvee, Callie checked the back and Stone’s body.

“Do you think she’ll be okay with him?” I asked.

“Yes, I do.” Callie tossed me an extra blanket. This one was shiny. “That’ll keep you warm.”

I looked around, the darkness ascended and the flood of cars and statue people faded into the black. It was so dark, I couldn’t see any hint of light from Del’s fire.

The night would be long and I was still absorbing the fact that Stone had died. It was lost for a while when we found Del, yet returned with a vengeance once we got back to the Humvee.

We retreated inside the vehicle for the night. I pulled out the lantern and notebook. I wrote a note to my husband Davis, telling him about Del and how I believed he, like Bruce, was waiting for me and protecting our family.

I knew they were alive, I felt it. Would they be there when I arrived? Sitting waiting with a survival escape plan like Bruce?

That, I didn’t know. Truth was, I had been gone for weeks and I was still half of a country away from getting home. Each short day and longer night, made that journey to find them seem a little less likely with each passing day.

<><><><>

Callie was up and about before the first hint of daylight crept in. As soon as it was semi light enough, she left to find Madison. She wanted to get on the road, make as much progress as she could, forgo small town sweeps and get to the camp outside of Kansas City as fast as she could. Stone’s death was a game changer. She actually even stated she thought about turning around and just returning to Arizona. It was closer to do that than keep going. I was glad she didn’t do that.

I don’t know why, but I expected to see only Callie and Madison returning to the Humvee. I was surprised that Del decided to join us. After all it was a man who trekked across a barren country to find his family, then set up camp outside the house where all of them had died.

To me he was done with life, settled, resolved possibly to die himself.

He came with us. Deciding he would go south with those at the Kansas camp. He wanted to be on one of those ships. His life as he knew it was done and he needed to start anew.

Madison seemed saddened by that. Mainly because once he boarded a bus, it was farewell. Like with Ruth, there would be an idea of where he would go. But there was no registry of survivors, or refugees. Once separated, once a goodbye was said, it was like death.

That was it.

Del was a lot less talkative in the Humvee when we left. He kept staring out the window. He grew sadder as we drove farther away. The reality of his lost family sinking in. He was leaving them again, only this time for good. Del seemed like a good guy. He wasn’t well and was troubled with an annoying cough that occasionally broke into a raging coughing fit.

We all had a cough, that was a given, it was so common place, it was barely noticed. Del’s was. His was worse. It made me wonder how much he had absorbed into his lungs. Would it stop? Would any of us stop coughing?

When there was no conversation, when I wasn’t writing in my notebook, all I did was have time to think.

Think about what was, what would be.

We were a day and a half from arriving at the Kansas camp. I hoped things would get better the farther east we drove. It seemed endless, ash covered roads in a gray dead world.

I didn’t know what Kansas would bring, but I knew one thing. Once we arrived… I was halfway home.

I focused on that.

NOTEBOOK – DAY TWENTY-FIVE

Davis – a side note,

You know I have written all of you, each day. I say things, how I feel, what’s going on. I know they haven’t been much. It’s so hard to describe what I see out here.

Today though, was genuinely the first time I was absolutely hopeful. See, I didn’t know for certain until today, that there was even a world left in the east.

I know there is. I know you’re fine and I know that you believe I will find you.

Lace

TWENTY-SIX – Thievery

The Kansas City camp wasn’t exactly in Kansas City, more on the outskirts. It was much larger than the one in Arizona, so large it was hard to see where it ended. A huge flow of people blocked the road, making their way there. It reminded me of the movie the Ten Commandments. People lugged belongings on carts, wagons, were bundled in heavy coats and blankets.

While the ash and dust flow was more of a light dusting, and we could actually see colors, the temperature was cold. Much colder than we had experienced. Every hundred miles it dropped five degrees.

Fortunately, we were in an authorized vehicle and permitted to go straight through. We weren’t looking for help, at least not like those who lined up for a mile.

We pulled up to a checkpoint where an armed solider asked for identification.

“I’m here for a refuel, reload,” Callie said.

“You dropping off them?” the soldier asked.

“No, they’re special volunteers,” Callie answered. “They help me. We’re EPAS Unit Nine out of Arizona. Command of Major Graham.”

“I’m sorry. Not familiar with Graham. Still trying to get a grasp, on Emergency Patrol Units. But I know Nine is in the heavy Southwest shit.”

“We are,” Callie said.

He returned her identification. “You can pull through to the right. You’ll see the quarters for enlisted. Supply and refuel is behind it.”

“Thank you,” Callie said.

“EPAS?” I asked.

“Emergency Patrol and Sweep,” Callie replied. “It’s new. Easier to keep track I guess cause there aren’t that many.” She pulled forward, telling us. “Let’s get the truck loaded before dark, have a hot meal, rest and leave first light. I don’t want to hang out here any longer than we have to.”

I agreed. It was crowded. I could see, hear and feel the agitation and impatience.

Once we parked, Callie engaged in conversation with another soldier who showed her where things were. After we removed Stone from the back and turned his body into command, all three of us helped her load up. In the middle of that, another soldier approached us.

“Sergeant Callister,” he called out. “Hey, wanted to let you know, if your people want a boat pass, they gotta get over there. I can take them over to the line for the passes, but they don’t get one today, they’ll be waiting another two weeks.”

“Thanks.” Callie nodded to us to go with him.

Neither Madison nor I were getting on a ship any time soon, but if we could get passes for the boats leaving in two weeks, we could get them for our families as well.

“How does this work?” I asked as we followed him.

“Each of the camps were issued only so many passes for each ship,” he replied. “There are seven ships leaving ports in four days. After that, the next wave of ships is August seventh, then the twenty first.”

It took me a second to realize it and I looked at the date. It was the twentieth of July. July. The sky looked like a major snow storm approached and the air felt it. Hard to believe it was the middle of the summer.

Del asked, “What do you mean ports? Where are they?”

“Depends what color pass you get. Some Texas, Mexico, Virginia, Florida. It depends.”

“And you’re bringing people there?” I questioned.

“Not the East Coast from here. No. Those are evacuation ports. People evacuated or were part of an exodus, or even just made it there on their own. For as long as we can we are looking for people,” he said. “Getting them to port as fast as possible.”

“Must be hard,” Madison said. “Having to stop at night.”

He shook his head. “Nah, we don’t stop. Convoy buses have huge spotlights, lights the way. We push through.”

“It has to be dangerous,” Madison said.

“Not really. You get adjusted to driving in it. Now, farther east, you get a few more daylight hours. Night is black, but you get longer days. Sky’s still covered. Not like this.” He peered up. “And certainly not like it is more west.”

To me, that was good to hear. We could make more progress with more light.

He stopped and pointed to an area of tables. “You want to go over there, pick a table. Lines all look the same. They’ll announce when they are on the August round.”

There were several tables with lines extended out. People pushed and shoved, it was hard for the soldiers to keep order and fights to a minimum. I could see it. I felt bad for them. They probably didn’t want to be ‘serving their country’ anymore than people wanted to leave their country or homes. It had to be done. People had to survive. All was being done that could be, the pushing and shoving wasn’t going to make it any better.

“One more thing,” Madison said. “If let’s say we wanted to get on a boat from Virginia. How would we do that?”

He laughed. “Why would you want to do that? Buses are leaving from here.”

Before Madison could explain our entire plight to find our families, I gave a short version. One that wouldn’t be ridiculed. “We’re civilian volunteers,” I said. “Last I knew we were headed east looking for people.”

With an ‘ah’, he lifted his chin. “Then you’d get them off a patrol or a camp out that way. If you’re going east, chances are you’ll be given a block of passes to give out to any survivors you find. I mean that’s the way I understand it to work.”

We thanked him and walked to a line. Not that we were getting passes, but we wanted to check. Who knew? Maybe the soldier was unaware they had the Virginia ship passes.

We picked the first table.

Twice during our wait in the line, Callie came over to check on us. The camp was so well lit, it was hard to tell that it was night.

There was a woman with three small children in line ahead of us. One of the children bounced on her hip and she kept shifting the child from left to right. I didn’t understand why she had them waiting in line. Was there no one that could watch them? It had to be exhausting for her. They were well behaved but still it was a lot. I was impressed at how well they did. They were all under five years old.

Madison and I took turns holding the youngest child, chasing the toddler when she ran off, it passed the time.

I wasn’t sure it helped her much.

The woman’s name was Marcy and she told us she was from Hayes, Kansas. She made the trip to the camp with her children in the back of a military truck when her own car broke down on the road en route

“My husband was trying to locate his brother and family,” Marcy said. “He will be here. I wish he’d hurry. They say the bus leaves tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you wait until he gets here?” I asked.

She shook her head. “What if he comes tonight and they’re all out of passes for next ships. I don’t think I can wait two weeks.”

“I understand that,” I said. “He’ll make it. He’ll be here soon.”

Finally we were close, next actually. The man at the desk hollered, “Next.”

Marcy with the children stepped forward.

“Red or green, that’s all I have left for Seven-twenty-five.”

“Were do they go?” Marcy asked.

“Does it matter? I mean, destination isn’t as important as survival, right. This isn’t vacation. Just pick a color. Or you can go with Eight-seven and have your pick.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I want them safe as soon as possible. I’ll take five.”

“I only see four of you.”

“My husband is coming.”

“Is he in the camp somewhere, I need to see him,” said the man.

“No. He’s on his way.”

“Then I can’t give you a pass for him unless I physically see him.”

“He’ll be here. He’s on his way. Please,” she begged. “Can you make an exception?”

“Lady, if I do that for you, I have to do it for everyone. I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal, one pass, but it is. Suppose… God forbid, your husband doesn’t show up. That’s a wasted pass. Someone will sit behind for another two weeks. I’m sorry. Four or none.”

She sighed out. “Four.”

He took her name. It was good to see that there was some sort of record. From all we heard, there wasn’t.

When we stepped forward the man said, “I have one Red left for Seven-twenty-five, if you all want to go together, you have to go green.”

“We’re willing to wait,” Madison said. “I was just wondering do you have any passes for Virginia ships.”

“Why in the world would you want to do that?” he asked. “Unless you’re going that way.”

“We’re volunteers,” I said.

“I don’t have them. I’m sorry. Once you cross into Illinois, you should be able to get one.”

I thanked him then me and Madison stepped aside so that Del could get his pass.

“Okay, we need a plan B,” Madison said. “What if we make it home, both of our families have been waiting on us, and we miss the ships?”

“Ships are going out for a month.”

“I know. I know,” Madison lifted her hand. “Let’s suppose that happens.”

“Then we head south, as far south as we can, Texas into Mexico, that’s what we do.”

“So you hold no illusion of waiting it out in the north.”

“We’re in Kansas, It’s July. I’m freezing, I don’t want to think about Weirton and how cold it is getting there.”

“Good, just wanted to make sure we were both thinking the same thing.”

During our mini plan, Del returned and we went off to find Callie. It had been hours since we spoke to her. I envisioned her angry because we weren’t there to help. Instead, she looked upset, if I wasn’t mistaken, on the verge of tears.

I knew better, it wasn’t tears, it was something else.

“Everything okay?” I asked. “Can we do anything? I know we were in that line for…”

“No, it’s fine,” she said. “The truck is packed, topped off and ready go…” She exhaled and sat on the cot. “South.”

“Wait, what? South? I asked.

“My orders have changed. Everyone’s orders have changed. Mt. Carmel has been canceled. If you aren’t already east or north east, you don’t go. They’re pulling all troops and National Guard for immediate relocation south. At zero eight hundred hours tomorrow, the exodus of all military emergency personnel begins.”

“The ships are going back and forth for the next month,” Madison said.

Callie nodded. “And orders are to move everyone south and wait it out there.”

“Why?” Madison asked.

“Because it may not be dark, but it is cold. Too cold, they’re saying it will be uninhabitable in a week. If that.”

My heart sunk. I could barely breathe listening to her words. We had travelled so far. We were three hundred and ninety miles from Mt. Carmel. One shot, one road. And the roads were good, not like they were farther west. They were passable, there was visibility, there were longer days. Yes, the sky was gloomy, but there was no ash haze. We were so close. One day. Just one day away…

What now?

What the fuck now?

“I’m sorry,” Callie said. “I wanted to see this through with you guys. I did, it was a purpose for me.”

“No.” Madison crouched before. “We can still be your purpose.”

“The military is all I have now.”

“Bullshit, you have us.”

“I’m sorry. I was ordered south. I go south. There’s nothing I can do…” She stood. “There’s especially nothing I can do if at zero eight hundred hours, I report the truck stolen.”

Attention caught.

“Wait. What?” Madison asked.

“There’s nothing I can do if you steal the truck.”

“How will we do that?”

“You go just before light. I’ll tell them you knocked me out.”

Madison laughed as she looked up to Callie. “Yeah, I’m sure they’re gonna buy that. We will never get away with it.”

“Yes, you will,” Callie nodded. “They won’t think twice about the truck rolling out until I tell them you stole it. I’ll wait to do so.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head. “No. This is insane. Just steal the truck with us.”

“I can’t do that,” Callie said. “I have an obligation and a lot of people need help. Yeah, I’d love to grab your families, but I have thousands of families out here that need help. It’s loaded, it’s ready. With the fuel surplus, you should make it at least to Weirton and head south. After that… I can’t tell you. Hunker down or hope to run into a military convoy heading south. If you don’t dally, you can beat this arctic front they say is coming.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Madison said.

“Look, I’m gonna be honest with you. I really think your families have already evacuated. They’re already south. I wish you wouldn’t do this. The cold that’s coming is deadly.”

“If we go south,” Madison said. “Without ever trying. We’ll never find them. Our best hope is to search our homes and hope they left a note or something.”

“It’s a crap shoot,” I said. “But going home first is the only chance we have of ever getting a hint on their locations. I can’t live the rest of my life wondering about them.”

“I know my family is waiting on me. So I know if they left, Bruce told me where he went and which way.”

I could see it on Callie’s face. She understood our plight, but didn’t agree with it. But she wasn’t going to stop us and she was going to do all she could to help. We appreciated that, I appreciated it with all of my heart.

I suppose it sounded silly or stupid. In reality, really, we were going home to find clues to our families. There was a chance they were still there, waiting until the last minute. There was a chance if they were gone, they left us information.

All of it was nothing but a series of chances.

We had to take them. We had to, especially if we wanted to find our families.

We talked about it a bit more in that tent, then we all headed to the mess hall to get a hot meal before they shut down.

I could smell whatever it was. It smelled wonderful. The mess tent was warm and we got in line. We were issued a bowl of soup, crackers, a bottle of water and if we wanted it, coffee.

The four of us headed to a table and that was when we saw Marcy again. She and her family sat at the next table. Only this time, her husband was with them. It made me happy to see he had arrived, until I saw she was crying.

“It’s okay, see?” Her husband held up a red pass. “It’s red. It has to be going to the same place, right. I’ll just get there a little later. As long as you and the kids are safe, that’s all I care about.”

Del wiped his hands and stood. “Can you excuse me?” He then stepped to Marcy’s table. “Sorry to interrupt. What pass is that?” He pointed to the pass in Marcy’s husband’s hand.

“It’s Red Eight-seven,” he said.

“Here. I’ll trade you.” Del reached into his pocket “This is a Red Seven-Twenty-five.”

Marcy’s released a gasping shriek. “Oh my God, are you sure?”

“Positive. I can wait. You need to go with your family. Be with them. That’s important. It’s more important than you realize.”

Marcy’s husband didn’t budge, but Marcy did, she jumped up and embraced Del. Thanking him over and over.

He felt uncomfortable about the praise, and that was evident. With his new red pass in hand, he returned to our table.

“Really?” I said. “That was amazing.”

He set the pass on the table. “Eh, not really. It’s not like I’ll even use this one.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I’m going with you,” Del said. “I need to go. I’ve been on this route. I know which way is best, and where you’ll have problems.”

“Are you sure?” Madison asked. “I mean, really sure?”

Del nodded. “I think Bruce would kick my ass if I didn’t watch out for his wife after he helped me. Yes. I’m sure. Plus…” He lifted his fork and nodded to Callie. “We gotta steal that truck. Someone has to knock her big ass out.”

Madison smiled and laid her hand over Del’s.

Callie shook her head with a smile and dove into her soup.

Me, I was still astonished. I had witnessed two really unselfish acts in a short span of time. It left me speechless. I only hoped that I had that in me, as well. The ability to be unselfish. Del and Callie did. It was amazing to know and see that the world may have gone to shit but humanity hadn’t gone with it.

NOTEBOOK – Day Twenty-six

Okay, I wrote you guys a poem. When this is all done, if you read this and we’re together, then you can make fun of me. I just felt I needed to for some reason. Remember, I am not a poet. It might be cliché, but at least it rhymes.

The Search

The days go by with the hours, sometimes way too fast.

The light to guide the way really doesn’t last.

In the dark of the night, I miss and think of you.

It’s the love that keeps me going, it pushes me right through.

There’s a chance I may not find you, my plight may be in vain.

Know that I’m out looking, trying to find my way.

I will never give up searching, even if I die.

Please know I gave my all, under the gray sky.

Oh, wow, that was really gloomy. I was trying to make it rhyme. Maybe I’ll just erase it.

I love you

TWENTY-SEVEN – Vent

Saying goodbye to Callie was bittersweet. Who would have known that the same woman that frightened us, yelled at us, would have fast become our friend?

It was like leaving a family member. Only we were her only family remaining.

The goodbye was not without a plan.

Callie wrote down the names of our children and husbands. She got descriptions as well and said she would keep looking on her end.

She told us that we needed to think about heading to the same area.

“Think green,” she said. “Word is that green is below the equator. Paraguay or Brazil. If we all pick the same color, we should all end up in the same country, right? I mean that was Marcy’s husband’s logic.”

It was good logic.

We all agreed on Green. Hopefully we would all get a green pass.

If that failed, we were to remember her unit. EPAS Unit Nine out of Arizona. Surely they wouldn’t change that and we would be able to possibly find her through the placement of her unit.

The reasoning was that the military would keep track of its units more than the families they placed on ships.

Eventually they’d count and register everyone. I believed it. It would just take time.

Just before the first inkling of light we said our final goodbyes, then Del did his best to knock Callie out.

I thought for sure she was just going to lie. But in order to make the story look good, she had to at least appear to have been struck.

Imagine my shock when she told Del, “Okay, hit me.”

It wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be. He procrastinated, paced, raised his fist, threw a punch and stopped short of striking her.

Finally, he grabbed a canteen by the strap and giving it all he had, he swung out and nailed her square in the jaw with the solid object.

It knocked her off her balance for a second, but I think it annoyed her more than anything.

“Damn it. Ow.” She grabbed her jaw then looked at the blood on her fingertips. “You were supposed to knock me out so I didn’t feel this shit.”

“I’m sorry. I tried,” Del said. “Want me to swing again.”

“No!” She snapped.

“What me to try?” Madison suggested.

“No. Just… just go.”

“Are you alright?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll fall to the ground here in a bit. Go.” She pointed.

We took a few steps, I stopped and looked back.

“Good luck. See you soon.” Callie lifted her hand in a wave.

We left.

Our leaving the Kansas camp brought a lot of anxiety. Constantly looking back to see if anyone followed. They didn’t. We were on our toes about it for the first three hours.

Three hours of continuous movement, consistent light to the day.

It seemed like the levee of all that held us back finally broke. Set free, a new side of the country, a different view. So many obstacles had been removed. The roads, which only had a light dusting, were clear

Life existed and we started to see signs of that as soon as we hit the midway point of Missouri. Not a lot, but a steady flow of cars moved along the highways. No one was going west to east, they were all going south. We could see them when we crossed an overpass. Our highway was barren.

We saw only one military vehicle.

Then all of a sudden, as if in a snap of fingers, we saw why there was the sudden move for the south.

As soon as we hit the interchange at St. Louis, everything changed. I’m sure there was a gradual switch before hand, but it was frighteningly upon us before we were ready.

“My God,” Del said. “It was cold and snowy when I passed through here last week. But nothing like this. Nothing… like this.”

The sky darkened again, and a lightning storm brewed fiercely above. Everything went from gray to a bluish white. Buildings in the distance appeared frozen and desolate. They looked old, as if abandoned for years when it had only been days. A fine snow, more like ice crystals swirled and danced in the air. Trees that were in full bloom looked as if they were dipped in liquid nitrogen, leaves frozen where they were until the wind shook the trees causing them to fly and shatter wherever they landed. The roads were slick and we didn’t realize how much until a gust of wind sent us sliding across the road. I was the one behind the wheel, my heart sunk but I regained control as my instincts for winter driving kicked in. I braced for treacherous spots, slowing down, but I wasn’t ready for that wind. Each time it blew we felt it in the Humvee, the heater struggled to keep us warm and it was so cold, every so often it would instantly frost the windshield.

Whatever front rolled in, did so fast, and with a vengeance.

It was completely clear why Callie’s orders were changed.

It was change, or die in the weather. That scared me.

Driving was dangerous, it worked in our favor that there were no other cars on the road.

I thought about stopping. In fact we discussed it. However, we weighed our options. While I feared driving in the storm, I feared stopping more. We stood a chance of not only pulling over, but freezing over.

We pushed on.

It was still early, we made good time up to that point and only had a hundred and fifty miles to go until we reached Madison’s home. Even at a much slower pace, barring any problems, we would get there before dark.

<><><><>

The drive was silent and slow. My hands hurt from squeezing the wheel and my back ached from being tense and leaning forward the whole ride.

But we arrived.

We passed the abandoned camp just before we hit town. It had been abandoned so fast the tents still remained. Most of them had blown over and were frozen. They didn’t even move with the wind. Tables, chairs and cots were scattered everywhere.

“They just pulled out this morning,” I said. “Didn’t they? Isn’t that what Callie said? They were pulling out this morning?”

Del shook his head. “I don’t know. Kansas was pulling out. Maybe they left yesterday. It had to be. This didn’t hit that fast, did it?”

It was at that moment I saw the look on Madison’s face.

She looked worried.

“They left,” Madison said. “They had to have left. I’ll kill him if they didn’t.”

I looked once more before we drove beyond the camp. “I’m willing to bet they did. We’ll go in the house, look for a note or something, and then move on.”

Madison nodded.

Something was different when we drew nearer to her neighborhood. There were cars parked. While there was no sign of people, there also was no sign of any rush to leave. Could they all have walked to the camp? Was that possible?

Madison’s street was no different. After following her directions of, ‘turn here, no turn up there’ we arrived on her street. It looked as if everyone was just settled in for a cold winter’s night.

“Last house on the end,” she said. “Oh, God, they haven’t left yet.”

Sure enough, there was a SUV in the driveway.

“Maybe they took the military bus,” Del said. “I know Bruce is good with cars, but if the cold got his, he probably took the boys to the camp.”

I parked in front of her house.

“He boarded up the living room windows,” Del said. “Probably sealed off a room. They weren’t like that when I was here.”

Madison grabbed the door handle. “Then they’re still in there.”

“Madison, wait…” I tried to stop her.

When she opened the door, a gust of cold blasted in and she wheezed loudly, closing the door quickly.

“Cover your mouth and face,” Del instructed. “Lacey, leave this running. We can’t take a chance of it not starting.”

Madison zippered her coat as far as she could, took a deep breath and opened the door.

She was filled with enthusiasm to run to the house, convinced that Bruce and the boys were there.

I hoped they weren’t. If they were, they needed heat, and I didn’t see any smoke to indicate there was warmth in the house.

I stepped out last, just about the time Madison made it up her walk and to the front door. Del was right behind her. It was hard to focus. My eyes watered immediately and the cold was biting against my skin.

Keeping my hand over my mouth to filter the air, I walked up the path.

The front door of the modular style home was locked.

“I’ll go around back. See if I can break a window and get in,” Del suggested and walked away.

Madison bounced from heel to toe, from the cold and nerves.

I looked at the house. It felt still. That was when I saw the front window, although boarded up was open. A circle was cut into the board, the size of a dryer vent hose.

“What is taking so long?” Madison asked.

“It’s only been a minute.” My eyes stayed focused on the hole.

“What are you looking at?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

She looked at the window. “Oh, he made a vent. Bruce is so inventive.”

“There’s no steam, smoke or heat coming out,” I said.

“The room is small. To conserve, he probably just doesn’t have it on now. Good call.” She walked over closer to the window.

“Good call on what?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

Madison leaned closer to the circle. “Bruce!” She screamed into the hole. “Bad Bruce. Caleb! Mommy’s here. Open the door.”

While she called into the hole, the front door opened.

I thought, when I heard it, that everything was all right.

Until I spun around and saw it was Del.

He looked at me and shook his head.

What? Why was he shaking his head? Were they not there?

After a second I realized that look on his face wasn’t because they weren’t home.

“No.” I said softly.

“Oh, good, you got the door.” Madison reached for the screen porch door.

“Madison,” Del said softly. “Don’t go in there.”

“Why not? I have to go in,” Madison said as if he were silly. “I have to see if they left word.”

“They didn’t.”

“I don’t understand,” Madison said. “It’s cold, step aside.”

“Madison please.” He held out his hand to her. “Don’t go in.”

“Are they there?”

“They are there.” He lowered his head.

“Then I need to go in.” She rushed inside.

Del raised his eyes, they were glossed over. Immediately my insides shook and a sickening knot formed in my stomach.

“No,” I said.

Del nodded.

I backed up and a range of emotions swept up my body causing a burning sensation in my chest. I wanted to vomit. My heart broke for Madison. How did it happen? Del had just seen them. They were fine. Madison was so hopeful and optimistic. It couldn’t be. No way.

Maybe he was mistaken, maybe he was wrong maybe they were sleeping… I thought, staying positive, until I heard the long, gut wrenching cry from Madison.

A single scream that was mixed with a sob deep from the soul. That scream said more than any words, it struck more than any physical blow. I knew at that instant, her journey had come to an end… Madison’s family was dead.

TWENTY-EIGHT - XOLOTI

Sorry wasn’t enough. There wasn’t a strong enough word in the English language to describe what I wanted to convey to Madison. The last thing I wanted to do was go into the house and see, but I had to, for Madison I had to go in there.

Without a doubt, I believed Bruce was waiting for her. Madison was absolutely correct when she said he was resourceful. He had a plan.

He sealed off the living room, lined it with insulation and built an impressive wood burning heater. He created a vent system using a hose that went to the hole in the window.

But something went wrong. Something very simple went awry.

It was a heartbreaking scene. Bruce was on the reclining chair with a blanket and the two boys were on the sofa. Each taking an opposite end. All of them looked peaceful, as if they were sleeping. Eyes closed, resting position, completely unaware that every breath they took was killing them. The house was cold and their bodies were frozen, they weren’t decomposed and looked unlike any bodies we had seen.

From what Del and I determined, the back hose on the makeshift heater was knocked off and Bruce and the boys passed away in their sleep, more than likely from carbon monoxide poisoning.

The cat, we believed was the culprit. It was the only explanation because Bruce and the boys were across the room from the heater and the gray and white cat lay dead a few feet from it.

It was hard to believe that someone could be so meticulous about the room and have a faulty hose.

Bruce knew what he was doing. He just didn’t expect for the family pet to knock it off.

What made the scene even more devastating were the pictures and notes that the boys had made for Madison. They were waiting on her, ready to greet her.

They did so in a way unimaginable.

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry,” I tried to console Madison. It was impossible. After a few minutes she asked to be alone. It worried me and I even expressed that to her. She simply told me she wanted to say goodbye and get a few things. Some pictures, items that she knew she’d never see again otherwise.

Del and I retreated to the Humvee.

“If she does anything drastic,” Del said. “It’s her choice. I know what she’s going through.”

We filled the tank with gas, and left the Humvee running while we rested.

Eventually Madison joined us. She had a knapsack full of items. Things she didn’t share, but said she would one day. She cried a lot, it was understandable.

Repeatedly she said, “How can I even bury them? The ground is frozen. I can’t just leave them in there to rot.”

“We’ll figure something out. We will,” I said. I knew what she meant. Funerals were closure, a way to say goodbye, a finale.

I didn’t have that for my sister. I merely held her decomposing hand and left her in the rubble.

There was guilt over that, so I understood why Madison was upset about it. It was a ritual and a sign of respect.

She had a drink then, emotionally spent, she rested her head on Del’s shoulder and fell asleep.

When I saw she was sleeping, I closed my eyes and reclined back in my seat.

I don’t know how long I was out, but it wasn’t a dream that woke me. It was heat.

I was sweating.

I felt it first, then noticed the brightness against my eyelids. Panicked, I jumped up believing something was wrong with the Humvee and saw that the interior of the Humvee was illuminated by a bright orange hue.

“Del,” I called to him as my eyes shifted out the window.

He groaned then said, “Why is it so hot? Turn down the heat.”

“It’s not the car.” Then I did something I didn’t expect to, I shut off the engine. There was no need to have it running.

The fire not only lit up the entire area, but heated it as well.

Madison stood in her yard a distance from the house. She stood as if she had taken command of the situation. A silhouette against the backdrop of the flames.

I opened the door and stepped out. It wasn’t cold, the heat blasted me and I walked to her.

The entire home was engulfed. It was an inferno.

“Hey,” I said softly.

“I needed a way to say goodbye. My farewell,” she said, her eyes not leaving the house. “Was I wrong?”

“No. Not at all.”

“It was cold, Lace. The car was freezing up even with the heat on,” she said. “We would have died, too. I know it. I felt it. Now I’m not cold. Bruce died trying to keep everyone warm. Now he keeps us warm. I can feel it.”

“I do, too.”

She grabbed hold of my arm, clutched it and leaned against me. Madison didn’t move, she just watched the flames.

Like a Viking funeral, the home was Bruce’s ship and she lit it aflame. In her own way, she gave Bruce and the boys a send off she believed they deserved.

NOTEBOOK – Day Twenty-Eight

Please be alive. Please be alive. Please.

Twenty-nine – Frozen

There was a point in our journey, it came about an hour and a half into our trek across Ohio, a point where I wanted to stop.

Madison bravely got back in the Humvee. She spoke very little, but her words made an impact. “You know, I knew,” she said. “I knew the second everything happened that I would never see my family again. Despite what I said, how I acted, I knew. Yet, I allowed myself, at the very end to believe they were alive. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.”

“You did see them again.” Del said. “Maybe not how you wanted it, not how it should have been, but you saw them. You are remarkable and braver than I am. I couldn’t even go in my house. You said goodbye to your family. I feel horrible that I played a part in getting your hopes up.”

“No,” Madison shook her head. “I would have felt optimistic each mile we drove and the closer we got.”

It was that point when my foot slowly depressed the brake.

“What’s wrong?” Madison asked.

“Let’s just stop. Let’s go south. I can’t do this.”

“Are you kidding me?” Madison asked. “You’ll go forward.”

“I can’t face it. I’d rather not know than see them…’

“Tough,” Madison said. “Tough. We have come this far and we will keep going until we know.”

“What if they’re…?”

“They’re not.”

“But what if…?”

“Then you’ll face it,” Madison said. “Like I did and like Del did. I believe they aren’t. What are the odds? One of us has to find their family alive.”

Oh, yeah, what were the odds? Pretty good, I believed. A simple look at our surroundings told me the odds were stacked against survival.

I began to drive again, the entire time thinking, was the weather foreboding, the cold, the snow, the ice, was it trying to stop me from going any farther? It seemed with each mile east, things worsened.

“Here’s a question,” I said softly. “This was about finding our families. This was our drive to survive. If, God forbid…”

“Stop it.” Madison snapped. “I’m serious.”

“I am too. Do we want to live? Do any of us want to go on? We would have lost everything and everyone. Do we want to keep going on in this screwed up world?”

There was silence. During it I started thinking that maybe if I could find water, I would jump in. They say that it was a peaceful way to go.

For miles no one said anything. I guess the question of, ‘Do any of us want to live?’ was on both Del and Madison’s mind.

Finally, Madison spoke up. “Yes. Yes. I do. Bruce and my boys died trying to live for me. The least I could do is try to stay alive for them.”

She was right.

If my family was still at my house, then they, like Bruce were waiting on me. Trying to survive. I owed it to them to keep going.

I would know soon. The truth of their fate was only a mere few hours away.

<><><><>

Home.

At least close to it.

I absolutely dreaded when we had to drive north, even something as simple as forty miles. I just didn’t know what was ahead.

My home town was across the river from Steubenville, Ohio. Steubenville was barren, frozen and desolate. Flyers were posted everywhere, but they too were frozen. I thought and believed that a major northern exodus was successful. After all we hadn’t seen any cars on the road as we went north.

Then once in Steubenville we realized why.

The cold hit so fast, people just didn’t have time to get out.

Many that did try, met their fate on the Memorial Veteran’s bridge. A huge, colossal architectural wonder of Ohio. A cable-stayed bridge with triangular pylons.

It had collapsed, the cold along with the abundance of cars, snapped the bridge and sent it into the frozen river.

Cars that had fallen became integrated into the ice creating a frozen cemetery.

There was one bridge that hadn’t collapsed. We stopped before crossing it. Going across that river was the only way to get to my house. My home was a mile at the most from that bridge.

We paused there for the longest time. It was like walking on ice. We were one vehicle. I wanted to just drive as fast I could, but the surface was slick.

The five minute ride over the bridge seemed like an hour. I felt as if I were waiting for it to just let go and crash to the frozen water below at any second.

It didn’t.

There was another obstacle to overcome though. The roads. Unlike the Midwest, West Virginia had many hills. Even the highways weren’t straight and even. We figured by looking at the map, if we could make it mid way south through the state, things would ease up.

That was our logic.

Another goal.

But first… my family.

My heart pounded from my chest when we pulled onto my street and then I lost it. I felt it drop to my stomach and my insides twisted and turned. My ears filled with a buzz as my rising blood pressure pounded and burned them.

The family van was still out front.

The windows of the house were iced over. A tree had fallen across the yard. If nothing else, my home screamed death.

I stopped the Humvee. “I can’t go in there.” I lifted my eyes to Madison.

“You sure?” she asked.

“I’m sure.”

She squeezed my hand, put up her hood, grabbed her gloves and reached for the door.

“No,” I stopped her. “You don’t have to.”

“You need to know. I’ll be back.”

“I’m coming with you,” Del said.

I felt the blast of cold air when they both opened the doors. My forehead dropped to the steering wheel.

How long had it been since I prayed. I wanted to believe it was years, but that wasn’t true. I prayed in that hole.

Eyes closed tight I prayed that it was fast, that they didn’t suffer. I hoped it was peaceful at least.

Did they die knowing I loved them?

Hand clutching the steering wheel, my body tensed up while waiting on the final verdict.

The driver’s door flung open.

“Stop torturing yourself,” Madison said, then handed me a frozen solid baggie. Inside was a note. “They left.”

Notebook – THE NOTE

July 19

Lace,

I tried to wait for you. I really did, but I had to think of the kids. If you are reading this note, I am so sorry we aren’t here. We know you are out there, alive, trying to get home.

The weather is predicted to take a turn for the worst, it’s already cold and without power, staying warm is hard. Last word from Mr. Johnson and his ham radio was that Yellowstone was on the brink of joining whatever set off the cascade of eruptions. Your mother made it here a few days ago. We’re taking her SUV and heading to Moundsville to hopefully follow the convoy to Virginia.

Our destination is Norfolk. Refugee ships are leaving there in a few days and then again, two weeks later. I don’t know whether we will make the ship on the twenty-fifth. Please know that we had to go. I will be waiting for you and pray you find us.

I know there are millions heading south. They’ll probably put us in one of those camps. I don’t know. I took that stupid Sun Flag with us. I will put it out wherever we are. So no matter how many people, no matter how many tents or trailers, look for that flag.

Find us Lacey. I hope and pray you do. We are all fine and alive, and we all miss and love you very much.

I love you with all of my heart,

Davis

Thirty – Stalled

The letter was written nearly a week earlier. Placed in a baggie and taped to the table just inside the front door. He stated my mother arrived a few days earlier. Which meant my mother went directly to my home after getting my call. The day he wrote it was the day me and Madison left with Callie and Stone. We were still out west.

They left before the exodus.

They had a jump on it.

I wondered why he picked that day and why he went to Moundsville and not straight to Norfolk. Did he hear something, see something?

I stood in my frozen living room taking in one final look, then like Madison, I gathered some items. I took photographs, and other things that perhaps someone else would understand my reasoning behind. I put them in my backpack.

Madison and Del both asked about the sun flag. A flag I should have noticed right away was missing, but I didn’t. I explained that I had flags for all occasions. I placed them on a pole from our porch. Before I left for California I hung the summer one. A bright blue flag with a huge yellow sun with a smile face and the words, ‘summer is here’. How ironic he took that one. In the midst of a wintery hell, I was to look for a huge smiling sun.

Perhaps, it would be the only sun we would find for a long time, but it wasn’t the only sun I wanted to see.

We didn’t stay long. It was time to go. I knew no matter how fast we drove, even under the best road conditions, we were missing the Seven-Twenty-five. Our best bet and hope was to get to Norfolk and find out what ship they took.

I knew they wrote down names in Kansas, I only hoped they did the same in Virginia.

The biggest problem we had was the weather. Not the snow or ice, but the cold. Callie said orders were changed because they expected uninhabitable weather in a week.

When she said it, I found it hard to believe. As I stood in my home, the bone chilling cold showed me the reality of it.

Bottom line, for our safety we had to get south as quickly as we could.

We debated on how we would do it. Would we stop or drive through the night with the spotlights on? Stopping was just as dangerous as driving.

We had made it from one end of the country to the other and still had not found what we were looking for.

By joint decision, we were going to push through, drive into the blackness of the night. That choice only took us so far. Fear of going over the side of the road, seeing only twenty feet in front of us, caused us to stop and pull over.

We didn’t quit for the entire night, just long enough to get brave again. Despite refueling, and leaving the vehicle running, stopping for those two hours was our biggest mistake.

As we originally believed, it was too cold to stop.

We only needed to make it another two hundred miles.

Half way through West Virginia was our goal. Things had to switch up there, they had to.

A mere hour after we resumed our trip, the engine felt sluggish. I felt I had to push it, depress the gas as much as I could just to get juice.

Before long, the Humvee sputtered and choked. On the highway south, for some reason, it just died.

It reminded me of the night with Callie and Stone. The night we were attacked. Out on the road, everything so black, the headlights reflecting off of nothingness.

We had lights, but the engine wouldn’t start.

“The fuel line is frozen,” Madison said. “It has to be the fuel line. We have battery power.”

“What do we do?” I asked.

Del shook his head. “If that is what’s going on, unless some freak warmer weather happens, then there is nothing we can do.”

The Humvee was done. None of us knew how to fix it. Even if we did, we didn’t have the means or parts. But even if we had all the parts and know how, we still couldn’t fix it as we wouldn’t last five minutes outside.

“Well, this sucks,” Madison said.

“Yeah,” I glanced over to my notebook and the picture of Davis and the kids clipped to the front. “Yeah, it does.”

We were done.

We knew it.

Our journey, although unfinished had come to an end on a cold, dark West Virginia highway.

“They say,” Madison said. “That freezing to death isn’t a bad death. Not supposed to feel anything. You just get tired, the shivering stops and you die.”

“Who says?” Del asked. “I don’t think those who froze to death got to say how it felt.”

Madison shrugged. “It’s better than falling from a building.”

“True,” I said. “We could have suffocated like those people in California.”

“Or cooked,” Del added.

“We could have been shot, or stabbed,” I said. “That’s a horrible way to die. I always feared choking.”

“Thinking about it,” Madison said. “There could be worse ways to go other than freezing to death with people you care about.”

We lit candles to add not only light but warmth and sipped on the remaining airline size bottles of alcohol while talking. I took some time to write one final entry in my notebook. Not that Davis would see it, he wouldn’t. Neither would the kids. However I needed to do it. I needed to say my goodbyes.

We were going to make the best of it. What else could we do? Walking was out of the question, and soon enough, we’d freeze to death whether we stayed or walked.

We weren’t there long, maybe two hours. Longer than I thought we’d last. We shivered out of control. My face went numb, and I had to keep cupping my hands around my mouth, breathing into them to stop my lips from freezing together.

I watched as Del’s head started to tip forward. He’d catch himself, but was fighting the drowsiness. I felt it too.

It was when I stopped shivering that I knew the end wasn’t far off.

Just as I resolved myself to that, there was a triple bang on the window, followed by a beam of a flashlight.

Instantly, I felt rejuvenated. I sprang forward. Del snapped awake.

“Oh my God,” Del said. “Is someone out there?”

“Hey!” the male voice yelled. “Anyone alive in there?”

We couldn’t make out the face. The light caused him to be a shadow, but I was certain there was more than one person out there.

“Yes!” I screamed.

All three of us enthusiastically cried out, our voices meshed together. “We’re here. Yes. We’re in here!”

They tried to open the door, it rattled.

“It’s frozen!” he shouted. “Can one of you kick it?”

He was pulling on the passenger door and Madison turned her body and just started slamming her foot into the door. She was relentless. Slam. Slam. Over and over until finally, with a huge crack, the door flung open.

Two men bundled in winter gear shone the light inside.

“Everyone all right?” the one asked.

“We are now,” Madison said.

“Let’s get you on the bus. Hurry. Get what you can,” he instructed.

Without hesitation we obliged.

I could tell by their gear they were military and when I saw the bus, I knew. A convoy had found us.

We didn’t grab much, we didn’t need much, just our personal belongings. I grabbed my backpack and took a moment to some transfer things from my suitcase and I left that behind.

Then we boarded the bus. There were about twenty people on it, and I scanned each face, hoping, thinking maybe by chance my family was on there.

They weren’t. The bus was warm. My legs and body were weak. I didn’t realize how much the cold had battered me until I stepped on that bus. One of the soldiers handed me a blanket. I was so excited, so happy, I couldn’t even speak. Moments earlier I was resigned to dying.

Now, all that had changed.

Immediately, I pulled out my notebook.

“What are you doing?” Madison asked through shivering breaths. “You just wrote in that.”

“I know. I know. I just have to add something.” I grabbed my pen.

I had written my farewell, I just wanted to add to the bottom, that it was premature. All was well. We had been rescued. I wasn’t dying after all.

THIRTY-ONE – Switch

I’ll take it from here.

Before she did anything else on that bus, Lacey wrote in that notebook. They offered her coffee from a thermos. She refused. She had to write something in that notebook. Her hands were still trembling from the cold.

“Really?” I said to her. “You can’t wait until you warm up?”

“No, no I can’t.” She smiled at me. It was weird, because Lacey didn’t really smile much. Always so serious looking, even when she wasn’t being serious.

Del sat in the seat directly behind her. “Leave her alone,” he said. “When she realizes how bad her hand writing is right now she’ll stop.”

“It is pretty bad, huh?” She adjusted herself in the small seat to turn her back more against the windows, catching some of the light that came from the spotlights on top of the bus.

“Here.” I grabbed the flashlight out of my pack and just to get her to stop moving, I aimed the beam on the page for her.

It didn’t take her long, and she closed the notebook, resting it on her lap. She had a picture of her family clipped to the front of that beaten journal. The notebook had seen better days.

I hadn’t a clue how she could concentrate to write even a sentence. After I warmed up and my senses returned, I was a nervous wreck. We were driving a school style bus, top heavy, on icy windy roads in the middle of a pitch black night.

She was fine with it, Del was fine with it. They didn’t seem to notice. It was like, since the soldiers were driving we must be fine.

There was no expertise when it came to the road conditions.

One soldier overheard me expressing my concern.

“We can’t stop,” he said. “Not for any extended amount of time. After fifteen minutes the fuel line will start to freeze up, especially if we’re low on gas. No worries, this is the third trip this week.”

“Yeah, but isn’t it getting worse?” I asked.

“Um… yes,” he replied. “But as soon as we get into Virginia the weather stabilizes some.”

That was good to hear but it didn’t lessen my nerves. I wished we hadn’t consumed those remaining little bottles.

I told Lacey that, too. Not that I was a drinker, but I needed one. It would help with how nervous I was. Every bump set my heart racing.

“Do you really need a drink?” she asked.

“Is that a rhetorical question, like questioning the reasoning?”

“No. Do you?’

“Yeah, but we drank it all.”

“The little bottles,” she reached down to her backpack, the one she brought from her house, unzipped it and pulled out an oval bottle that was pretty much full. “It’s a little frozen.”

From behind us, Del whistled. “Holy shit it has to be in the negatives if it’s frozen.”

“Shake it, you should get some.”

I looked at the bottle with a picture of John Wayne on the label. “Duke Bourbon, Wow.”

“That is Davis’ special stash. I can’t believe he left it behind. Go on.”

I uncorked it and drank straight from the bottle. It had a rich, almost pure vanilla flavor.

“Need a straw?” Lacey joked pulling out a kid’s green fun straw.

I laughed, “No, I’m good. Why did you take that?”

“It was Jana’s when she was four. Wouldn’t drink anything without it.” She put it back in the pack. “Memories.”

The Duke Bourbon did the trick. It not only calmed my nerves, after several gulps it also warmed my chest, I believed it made me slightly intoxicated.

I returned it and Lacey shoved it into the bag.

We talked for a while, keeping my mind off of the roads. We talked about our first meeting with Callie, how wrong we were about her. We laughed about how silly we seemed thinking we were going to die.

It wasn’t long before it started getting light and I breathed out in relief.

I could tell we had made it farther south. While it was frozen outside, it just didn’t look as icy.

I asked the one soldier, “How much longer?”

“About three more hours.”

To me that was a long time and I was getting tired. Once I relaxed, exhaustion hit me.

Noticing the empty row of seats across the aisle, I grabbed my blanket and pack and moved over. I lost my balance and felt the rush of the booze.

“You okay?” Lacey asked.

“Yeah, a little tipsy and I’m gonna try to sleep.” I leaned with my back against the side of the bus and made a make shift bed.

I had just closed my eyes when I heard someone announce we had crossed into Virginia. I opened my eyes again, looked across to Lacey. She smiled and I gave her a thumbs up.

Then it happened.

The course of events, were embedded in my mind forever. There was a tremor, ever so slight, but with the roads being slick, the bus swerved. It was out of control, only a moment and the bus filled with the eruption of concerned moans from everyone. It was followed quickly by sounds of relief when the bus straightened out.

I looked at Lacey again. She had her hand on her chest, shook her head with a partial smile and a look that said, ‘whew that was close’.

Deciding I wasn’t going to sleep, I sat up. The moment I did, someone, I don’t know who, it didn’t really matter who it was, yelled out, “Shit!”

I felt the brakes engage, but they did nothing.

I gripped the seat in front of me as the bus swerved left to right, not slowing down until the bus turned and started a sideways, high speed glide down the highway.

I reached out my hand to Lacey, everything in our way was behind her. I watched as we careened toward the collapsed overpass blocking the road ahead.

Our fingers touched, I tried to pull her to my side, but it happened too fast.

Closer.

Closer.

Impact.

The side of the bus smashed into the concrete and went airborne, flipping upside down, and landing hard on the roof.

I held on as best as I could, but the force of the hit, loosened my grip and I tumbled. Like the second hand of a clock, the bus spun around and around. Items flew at me, bodies flew at me. How long did we turn? Somewhere in the midst of it all, I must have lost consciousness, because I didn’t remember when we stopped spinning, and if we hit something else.

All I knew was a loud ringing in my ears brought me to awareness, and I was somewhere in that bus buried beneath baggage and bloody limbs. Some of them moving, some of them not.

A man’s arm was across my throat, choking me. I lifted it, gasped, coughed and tried to edge my way out.

Was I hurt? I didn’t feel badly hurt, just the loud ringing in my ears.

As I turned to move and bring myself to a sitting position, I noticed it.

Oddly, it rested on my stomach. How it happened, I didn’t know

Lacey’s notebook.

The picture of her family was somehow still clipped on the cover that was splattered with blood.

Twenty-eight people were on that bus.

Soldiers, elderly, men, women and children.

The accident was horrible, a tangled mess of wreckage.

A lot of people had injuries. Many had serious ones, including Del who broke his leg and hip.

Surprisingly, for horrendous as the accident was, only three people died.

Unfortunately… Lacey was one of them.

THIRTY-TWO – Aftermath

It was a strange effect that overtook me. I didn’t expect it… calmness.

I was focused on finding my friends. Maybe I was a bit callous as well. People reached out to me asking for help, but I couldn’t help them. I had Lacey and Del to find.

The bus was completely upside down, windows broken and glass everywhere. After I stood, that’s when others did, too.

Some cried, some screamed. I… looked.

Clutching Lacey’s notebook I visually searched.

It seemed everyone ended up in the back area.

“Lacey, Del,” I called out. It was hard to stand. Every time I got my footing, someone moved on the floor, or stood up groaning. “Lacey! Del”

“Is there anyone that isn’t hurt?” a man called out.

“Lacey! Del!”

“Ma’am.”

I looked over my shoulder.

“Can you help us?” the soldier asked.

I ignored his request and called out for my friends,

Del responded finally. “Here.”

His voice came from behind me, I spun and searched as he called out again.

He was pressed against the side, one of his legs was still under a person.

“Del,” I said.

“I’m good. I’m fine. I scooted out. I think I broke my leg.” He spoke with strained words.

I peered down, his pant leg was bloody and his shin bone poked through the fabric. “You think?”

You hurt?” he asked.

“No. No I don’t think so.” Quickly, I tuned into my body to see if anything was painful. I didn’t feel any injuries.

“Lacey?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t found her.”

“That’s her backpack.” He pointed behind me. “She had it on her lap. Is that it?”

Once more I turned and I saw the backpack. “Yeah, that’s it.” The strap rested on the head of a man that lay on his side. My foot twisted as I tried to step forward and I guess I nudged that man. He grunted, grabbed his head and crawled his way into a sitting position. When he sat up, he not only knocked over the backpack, but he exposed the fact that Lacey was behind him.

There was no blood on her face, it was remarkably clean, peaceful and almost ageless. Her coat was open and her shirt was saturated in blood. Lacey’s neck was purple and twisted.

I knew instantly she was gone.

No last words, no farewell. No dying breath saying, ‘tell my family I love them.’

Not a chance for any of that.

My friend had passed away, alone.

<><><><>

Although they radioed for help, a bus traveling south happened upon us. They took the injured, and since I was fine, I waited for the next one. Sitting there, numb, holding Lacey’s body until it was time to go.

I had to leave her. Abandon her body on the side of the road as if she were nothing. No burial, nothing to say, no goodbyes.

I felt as if I disrespected her.

Nothing really hit me until we arrived at the camp and were taken to the medical tent. That’s when I emotionally collapsed. I began sobbing and crying, sitting there holding her belongings against my chest. Waiting on word about Del who was rushed into emergency surgery.

What happened? My mind took me to a conversation when Lacey talked to me about what happened when the tram crashed that day. Like me, she saw it coming. The trouble coming her way until impact. Everything she had described was eerily similar to the bus crash.

I couldn’t help but wonder if somehow Lacey was supposed to die on that tram that day, but fate saved her for a greater purpose. What that was remained to be discovered. Perhaps it was to find me, guide me home, or maybe it was just to get peace to her family. Maybe one day I would know. Sitting there crying and waiting for news on Del, I glanced down to the notebook. Lacey was never without it, always writing in it.

What was it that she had to write on that bus?

Still cold, still shivering, she opened that notebook and jotted something down.

Hating to do so, I opened it up and read what she had written.

Her last entries…

Davis, Jana, Ev

This is the hardest letter I have ever written. I don’t know if you will even read this. If not, I hope you know I tried. My fingers are numb and I don’t know how much I will able to write. Please know I tried with everything I had to be with you, to find you. Sometimes it is out of our control. Things were going well for us. We’ve reached the end of the line. At least I found out that you were fine. I believe you will be fine. I know you will do the best you can with the world you have before you. I love you all with my heart and soul. I am so proud of all of you. I leave this world full of love.

Mom

Just a note–

I wrote the previous entry when I believed we weren’t going to make it. I was wrong. We were saved. Keep that flag where I can see it. I will find you. I’m not dying after all.

But she did. Underneath her final entry I placed the date of her death, with my own note of thanks and that she would never be forgotten.

She had filled nearly every single page of that notebook. I remembered when I noticed how many pages she filled and how few she had left, I believed that when she finished the pages of the notebook her journey would be done.

Sadly, it was.

It broke my heart, all that she endured for the sake of finding her family, her life and plight ended too soon and so close.

It wasn’t fair. She never found them. They would never get to know all she did to be with them, how she felt.

Or would they?

I closed the notebook and looked at the picture of her family.

She didn’t find them… but I would.

If it took the rest of my life, I would find her family and give them that notebook. I would do so, or like Lacey, die trying.

Thirty-Three – Learning Lacey

The temperature in Norfolk was a balmy zero degrees. A lot warmer than it was several hundred miles north. While still cold, it was easier to keep a space warm.

I was issued a tent and bunk, but I didn’t go there. I couldn’t with a clean conscious leave the medical tent without knowing how Del’s surgery went.

His surgery was taking a long time. While sitting there waiting, I decided to start reading the notebook. Strangely, the first page was a different handwriting or maybe it was Lacey’s and she just got progressively worse with her penmanship. I started reading it and I realized not even Lacey was that mushy. It was a letter of sorts, more of a poem, telling some guy name Clark how much he was loved and the list of silly reasons why he was the perfect husband.

My curiosity as to why Lacey would leave it in the notebook was answered on the flip of a page. She got the notebook from a flight attendant named Amber. Actually, Lacey took a lot of things from Amber. She wrote a homage to her, and vowed if she ever ran into Amber’s family, she would let them know how Amber saved her life in a way. Lacey had taken refuge that first night out of the hole in a plane.

Tucked in that page were two photographs. The family looked magazine perfect. The husband was distinctive, good looking. She must have kept that picture in case she ever saw them.

Frequently, Lacey mentioned deceased strangers who in some way aided her. She always labeled it, ‘took part in saving my life’ and followed it with being forever grateful.

Sometimes she had a memento of them.

A few pages into the journal she mentioned a man named James Herron. She had taken his car and tucked in his page was his car registration and an unmailed, addressed greeting card she had removed from the glove compartment.

It was evident, in her mind, she was going to get out of the disaster zone and find the families of these people. She truly believed that a civilized and organized country awaited her emergence.

Lacey had no idea the world had pretty much come to a grinding halt.

Just as I wondered what she thought about our first meeting, I stopped. I was in mourning, I didn’t want to take a chance of interpreting it wrong.

Instead, I set my sights on the backpack.

What had she taken from her home?

Unzipping it exposed that bottle of Duke Bourbon. It was partially wrapped in an Ohio State t-shirt and surprisingly was unbroken. Even though I knew she took that for Davis, I would probably nurse it. After all, he left it behind.

Reaching inside, I pulled out a baggie. In it was a watch, wedding rings and an airline employee tag with the name Amber. All items she mentioned in her notebook that she wanted to return to Amber’s family.

There were a lot of photos in that bag along with odd items. Sippy straw, remote control, bottle opener and a VHS tape of an old Robert Downey Jr. movie. VHS? I didn’t even think anyone had them anymore. Lacey did. It meant something to her. Everything in that bag, one way or another meant something to her.

Everything I had seen and read painted a picture of a woman who placed sentimental value on everything. She cared and appreciated so much.

Little things I didn’t realize.

My expedition of learning Lacey ended shortly after I started, when a doctor brought news of Del. He was out of surgery, recovering, and would in time, heal.

Time being the key word. He was going to be placed on the next yellow ship out, but would go to a different camp. One that dealt with those who had special needs. It would be a while before Del could walk. All those who needed medical aid, went on a yellow ship.

Yellow ship? I had heard of red and green. The doctor informed me there was also blue and purple. All ships going to different places. The countries that suffered least after the event, came to the aid of those who needed it.

Once I knew Del was fine, I sought out some food and then found my cot to get some sleep.

The next day my body was sore, really sore. I felt the effects of the accident. A few ibuprofen put a dent in the pain and after checking on Del, I went to where they issued ship passes.

It was a new day.

Day one of my search for Lacey’s family.

Thirty-Four – Needle

“I’m sorry, you want what?” the woman at the ship pass table looked at me like I was nuts.

“I want to see what ship a friend got on.”

She laughed.

“That’s funny?”

“Actually it is,” she said. “Do you know if he, or she got on a ship?”

“He left a note that he was coming here with his two kids. That was a few days ago. If he made it, he got a pass. If he didn’t get on a ship, he’s still here. Next ones leave in two weeks right? I just need to find out.”

“How do you propose to do that?”

“When I was in Kansas they kept a log of who got what passes.”

She nodded. “We do.”

“Can you check the log?”

“No. No I can’t.”

I looked around, only a couple of people walked up to the tables. “It’s not like you’re busy.”

“It’s not like it’s easy. Twenty thousand, one hundred and seventy-two passes were issued from this port alone for the ships that left yesterday and the ones leaving now. Twenty thousand names just written down, no data base, no computer, no alphabetical order. It could take days if not weeks of looking at each name. I’m sorry, I don’t have the time for that, or honestly, the drive to do so.”

“I do,” I said. “Can I look?”

She exhaled. “You really want to do that?”

“Yeah, I do. I have nothing else to do but wait. I might as well look.”

She stood up and waved for me to follow. At the back end of the tent, was a long table, there were boxes on top and beneath.

“You look here in this tent and you don’t take them,” she said.

“I promise.”

“Any of the family disabled?”

Lacey had never mentioned a disability, so unless they were hurt like Del, that answer was no. I shook my head.

“Then bypass yellow. I’d start…” she handed me a box, “With Red. Most popular for some reason. Biggest area. There’s another box of logs underneath. Good luck.”

I set up shop at her table. She didn’t seem very pleased with that, almost annoyed. I didn’t see the problem, she was by herself at the big long table and there was room.

However, by the next day I learned her name was June, and she was actually a very nice woman.

By the third day, whenever she had a free moment, June helped me look.

My days were full. Visiting Del in the morning, going to the ship pass tent, looking through the logs then I’d visit with Del again.

I checked each log entry on each page, then checked again.

It took nearly five days to get through the red logs. Suffice to say I was discouraged. Del was optimistic, telling me I’d find them. I was beginning to doubt that. I still had blue, green, and purple. I had only nine days until I had to get on a ship. If they took as long as the red logs, I’d run out of time.

The next batch I grabbed was green. After all, Callie told me to think green. Maybe that was a sign. I needed a sign.

I asked June if she knew where they were sending the soldiers. She told me some of them were staying stateside, others were going on ships according to areas.

In short, there was no way to know where Callie was headed.

Three quarters of the way through the green logs, three days in, my mood went from hopeful to bitter, and June knew.

I slammed the book shut. “All the names are looking the same. Now, I’m probably screwing up.”

“You’re looking for a needle in a haystack. They will look the same. Not to discourage you, but are you sure this is what you’re supposed to do?”

“I believe so. I really do.”

“Then keep looking. You have one more log to go, and two more ships, right? You got to be close. Which one were you going to do last?”

“Other than yellow? Blue.”

“Then do that next.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Always the last place you look, right? So bump it up.” She then turned her attention to a man who approached the table.

That made me smile. I swept up the finished log, set it aside and bent over to grab a new one from the box on the floor.

“Any preference?” June asked.

“No,” he answered. “How about… green.”

“Sure. Name?”

“Herron. James Herron.”

I heard that name and my head sprang up smacking into the table.

“You okay?” June asked with concern.

“Yes.” I rubbed my head, thinking “No, no way. It has to be a coincidence.”I sat up and looked at the college age young man. “James Herron?”

“Yes,” he replied.

I lifted a finger. Lacey’s backpack never left my side, I reached into it, grabbed the notebook and opened it, pulling out the car registration. “Do you know this man?” I handed the card to him.

The second he looked down to the vehicle registration, his body swayed. “This is my father. How did you…?”

“Here.” I handed him the greeting card. “He didn’t get a chance to mail that. I believe it’s for you.”

His fingers trembled as he held the envelope and his eyes glazed over. “You knew my father?”

“No. I didn’t. I’m sorry. He passed away, but my friend ran into him and he helped her get out of Oakland. She wanted to find you, give that to you and thank you for the help he gave.”

Although, Lacey never spoke to James Herron and he was already deceased when she found him, he did help her and that was what his son needed to hear.

He rushed around to my side of the table and embraced me. “Oh my God, thank you. Thank you so much. I needed this closure. Thank you.”

He spoke with me a few moments, then I told him I had to get back to the logs, I needed to find Lacey’s family.

James said after he was assigned a bunk, he’d be right back and would help me look. It was the least he could do.

Knowing how many logs were left, I accepted his help.

After he walked away, June looked at me. “That was real? That really just happened?”

“It did.” I lifted the notebook. “I told you about all this stuff in here.” I was filled with enthusiasm and hope again.

“You realize meeting him was less likely than finding her family. Did you ever think maybe you’re supposed to do more than just find her family? I mean… that… just happened.”

“Could be,” I grabbed a pen. I wanted to make a note in Lacey’s notebook that I ran into James. When I opened the cover I immediately saw Amber’s photograph. After the crash, after everything it was still in there. Staring down at it, I thought June maybe had a point.

<><><><>

James returned within an hour and immediately dove into the logs with me. He suggested that he start on blue, kill two birds with one stone. I gave him the names and details to look for.

First blue log, second page in, James called out. “What was her weird maiden name?”

“Some long polish name,” I said.

“Would her mother have registered alone?”

“I doubt it.” I said. “What’s the name?”

He couldn’t pronounce it, so he spelled out the name, ‘Budziszewisky’.

“Shit,” I said.

“One person. Martha?” he asked.

“Oh my God.” I stood up.

“That’s her. That’s them,” James said excitedly. “Three lines down. Kale, Davis. Three people. Jana and Evan.”

I screamed like I won the lottery. June shrieked as well and so did James.

“They’re on blue,” I said. “Do you know where Blue is going?”

Suddenly June went from happy to serious. “I’ll find out the details for you.”

“Can you get me on a blue?”

June nodded.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I just know, with all the ports, there are one point three million people slated for blue.”

“Well, it’s better than one point four, right?” I asked.

“You are optimistic.”

“I happened upon him,” I pointed. “He found their names. I’ll find them.”

“I believe you will,” June said. “I believe you will.”

<><><><>

After discovering the ship, James offered to change his pass and go with me. I thanked him, but told him I felt it was something I had to do on my own. However, I asked June if it was possible for James to go with Del. She said one family member was permitted. It meant more to me that James stayed with Del and helped him recover. I also asked him to keep his eye open for a feisty ninety-two year old woman named Ruth.

He promised he would.

My mood was better and I really turned an optimistic page. It was short lived. Suddenly I found myself doing the math.

One point three million people, if I spent ten seconds on each person that was thirteen million seconds.

Two hundred and seventeen thousand hours.

Nine thousand days.

Three years.

That was speed searching and frankly, ten seconds per person wasn’t a reality.

As they days grew closer to my boarding a blue ship, I found out more information. Blue ships were going to Argentina. There were over seven hundred refugee centers planned through the twenty-three provinces.

My undertaking was larger than my optimistic view.

“You want to not do this?” Del asked, as I visited him.

“No, that’s not it. I just don’t know how I’m going to do this.”

“Maybe when you get there, they’ve registered people. It might be a piece of cake.” He reached over to me, gripping my hand. “You have to look at the big picture. Whenever you get discouraged you look at that. This was something that was placed in your hands long before you knew it. This is your task now. God made sure of it. Lacey wrote names of dead strangers, collected souvenirs from them and you ran into the family member of one of them. You’re not a drinker, yet you were drunk the day of the accident, making your body relaxed when we crashed. You moved seats right before. And the biggest thing… after that crash, the job literally landed in your lap in the form of that journal. You don’t get any bigger signs than that.”

“It’s just… seven hundred camps,” I said.

“Some might be big, some might be small.”

“This is all easy for you to say, you’re going to a rehab place. This is going to take years.”

“Oh, yeah?” Del raised his eyebrow. “Got something else, or better to do?”

Del drove home the point. Not only did I have nothing else to do, there was absolutely nothing better to do than to find Lacey’s family.

I had a direction. That was more than I had when I arrived in Norfolk.

THRITY-FIVE – Summer

The closest I was, in my entire life, to a foreign country was Niagara Falls, Canada and I viewed it from the New York side. Yet, here I was on a ship heading to a foreign land. I was on board for three weeks. It only took a few days to get there, but we waited miles off shore until they moved the first wave of refugees to camps.

Once we docked, we walked into a mess. It was a slum consisting of poor sewage, tents and rodents. It wasn’t that the government of Argentina wanted the refugees to live that way, there was no choice. They were dealing with their own problems in the aftermath.

I envisioned that south of the equator would be bright and sunny. While it was indeed much warmer and brighter, the sky was not blue. It was gray, almost as if that was our new atmosphere. At least the sun was trying to break through.

There was chaos and lawlessness in the camp, and I was glad to leave. After three weeks I was moved to a permanent refugee camp. I labeled that the starting point.

It wasn’t easy, or advised to go to other camps.

In the early stages, the remaining US government was trying to work with the Argentinean government to give us temporary homes until we could return to the United States. I was told by one official they would have a reliable refugee registry in place within two years.

Two years?

After several months, I was granted a work permit. It enabled me to travel to nearby camps. There I secured a list of the location of every camp, and then I slipped away one night.

It went unnoticed. No one registered me.

I made friends easily with the local people and they were all very friendly and helpful. I grew accustomed to my new lifestyle. Sleeping where I could, staying with host families that took me in, and walking wherever I needed to go.

Thousands of miles of walking.

The first year was so disorganized that I had to make my way back to several camps, because they kept moving people around due to their skills.

Year two, when longer range communication was restored, they started moving people once again. This time to larger camps, trying to migrate all Americans together for when it was time to leave. Things were beginning to recover, the world was healing, technology was slowly returning.

After two years, I was still searching. Every tent, every hut, every face. When I met anyone I showed them my pictures. It seemed as if Davis, his children, and the other people who helped Lacey never existed.

Seven hundred camps became two hundred. Two hundred camps crammed packed with people.

Every time they migrated people, I had to start over.

It was funny, I ran into the same people over and over, but never ran into Davis or the others.

The world had been thrust into a mini ice age, and I wandered a cold earth looking for people I had never met.

Then after three years, finally the clouds began to part. I remember seeing the first speck of blue sky, the first inkling of the sun. The temperature went from an average forty degrees a day to sixty. That first day of sun, everyone gathered outside, staring up to the sky, waiting, wanting more.

The truth was finally discovered.

Everything up to that point was ‘he said she said’, relayed information and speculation. With the revealing of the sky came the reality of what happened.

There was no planetary body that slammed into the moon, no meteor passing so close to earth that it threw us into a tizzy, it was just a longer, overdue cycle that caused a chain reaction. A simple natural burp of earth ignited a firestorm in the Pacific Ring of Fire. That in turn triggered the major eruptions of the Long Valley Caldera, and thirty days of continuous small eruptions at Yellowstone. All of that shot so much debris, smoke and ash into the air that the entire earth was shrouded in a gray cloak. It was more concentrated north of the equator.

It blocked out the sun completely in the north, freezing the landscape.

After three years, the sky started to clear south of the equator. The earth literally spun out of it. Just like a cataclysmic event created the moon, this event created a ring around earth.

Once the clouds parted it was visible. During the day it looked more like a cloud, but at night, it was illuminated, breathtaking and beautiful. I would stare at it for hours. In a strange land, I felt as if I weren’t even on earth any longer.

However, with the bright sun came the dark news. My search would once again take another turn. Not only were they integrating more camps, they were preparing to send people back to America, repopulating and rebuilding the southernmost areas first.

I had befriended a woman named Genevieve. She worked really hard for the new government office, The Department of American Migrants.

We fought a lot, I accused her of doing a poor job of keeping track of people, and she called me insane. I was the biggest pain in her ass at first. She threatened to have me arrested for abandoning a government issued job. Eventually we became friends and she was the one who told me about the merged southern camps and how they were scheduled to ship back first. She suggested I go there and start, at least if I didn’t find Davis, I knew he was still in Argentina.

The camps were named after states in the US and the first one scheduled to return was the Alabama camp. Under the agreement that I would deliver documents and reports to the camp commander, I caught a ride with a military unit and following a two day ride, arrived at the Alabama camp.

One of the soldiers in that unit told me that he believed the camp had registered everyone.

I didn’t believe it until we pulled in.

I honestly didn’t want to leave. It was the first time that I entered a camp that was organized and clean. The tents were dismal, but they were in order and straight.

I knew that this particular camp had been there for a while and was once smaller. I was there in the beginning. It had grown and matured. Gardens were planted on the perimeter, children ran around, and down the main path people set up vendor stands, bartering fresh cooked food for other needed goods.

It wasn’t a camp, it was a community. It was life.

The command center was no longer a tent, but a small building. I wanted to get in there, drop off the information and find out if they had a registry.

Just as I opened the door, I heard the call of my name.

“Madison!”

I turned around and to my surprise it was Callie.

She rushed my way and greeted me with a huge bear hug, nearly toppling the items from my arms. I was so shocked I couldn’t register the reunion.

“This is amazing,” she said. “I just got here last week. How long have you been here?”

“About five minutes. I just got dropped off.”

Callie looked at the things in my arms. “Are you working for the administration?”

“For today,” I said. “Let me drop these off and we can talk. I missed you. It’s so great to see a friend.”

Callie opened the door for me. “I know. Where’s Lacey? Did she find her family?”

I stopped cold.

“No,” Callie groaned out. “Not Lacey. I thought you were carrying her backpack.”

“Never leaves my side,” I set down the box of folders on the secretary’s desk and told her it was from American Migration. I took a deep breath and faced Callie. “Lacey died in an accident. She never found her family. That’s what I’m doing. I’m searching for her family.”

“What about yours?” she asked.

“Bruce and the boys didn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“How long have you been searching?”

“Three years, two months, six days.”

“It can’t be easy. They keep merging camps and moving them.”

“Tell me about it.” We headed back out. “That’s why I’m here. I brought the papers here so I could look. I heard this camp was moving back to the US.”

“Yeah, it starts in three weeks.”

“This place is amazing,” I said as we walked down the main road through the vendors.

“Most of the established camps are now.”

“Not like this.”

“We’re south,” she said. “The southern camps have been like this a year.”

“That explains it.” I tossed up my hands. “I started in the south and headed north. I heard they have a registry here.”

“Every camp that is preparing for the return has a full registry, we need to keep track now on who is going back, where they were from originally, what skills sets they have. But… Madison, her family isn’t here.”

I sighed out and lowered my head. “It figures.”

“I checked. This is the third camp I have been to down here that has a registry. They aren’t at any of them. I check every camp.”

“I appreciate that. But…” I upped my voice. “If you checked three, that means I have only four.”

“I can get you a ride to the Tennessee camp tomorrow if you want.”

“I would like that.”

“So…” Callie hesitated. “Del. What about Del?”

“Del? Last I saw him was three years ago. I am hopeful it’ll be easier to reunite with him. He was injured in that accident and was placed on a yellow ship.”

“Wait. He went to a yellow camp? I didn’t see him. Of course I was only there for the transition to return. That’s what I do. I go to camps for three weeks, get them ready to leave then move on.”

“So he’s back in the states?” I asked.

“Yes. El Paso. If he was in a Yellow Camp he left last week. Ruth is, too.”

My breath shivered and I couldn’t speak. “You saw Ruth?”

“Yes, I did. Celebrated her ninety-fifth birthday. She’s doing great. Told me she was too old for traveling, but we sent her anyhow. That’s where I’m going to end up when it’s all done. El Paso. You have to make plans to go there.”

“I will. This is all coming together, you know. It has to mean something. Seeing you, hearing about Ruth.”

“It means you’re close.”

“Hopefully, Maybe I’ll…” At first the mild arguing, or rather louder bartering, caught my attention and I turned my head.

The face.

I knew that handsome face. I saw it every day for three years. The two children with him were older, but their blonde hair was unmistakable.

“What’s wrong?” Callie asked.

“I just got another sign.” I slowly walked over.

The man was trying to get a fresh tomato for his children and the woman at the vegetable cart wouldn’t budge. She wasn’t interested in his items.

I undid the front pocket of my backpack and pulled out two plums. “Here.” I gave them to the children, staring at them, their faces. They had grown. “It’s not a tomato, but they’re sweet. Enjoy. Don’t choke on the pits.”

“What do I owe you?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Hey!” The vendor woman shouted. “That’s my business.”

“Too bad,” I said.

“Thank you again,” he said. “We just got here yesterday from another camp. I don’t know how this bartering works. Usually my homemade flint gets us lots of stuff. Not here. So thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Can I give you flint?”

“No,” I shook my head. “You can tell me… This is going to sound strange. Is your name Clark?”

“Yeah, yeah it is. Do I know you?”

Callie came over and asked if everything was all right. I told her, “It’s more than all right. It’s a sign.” I undid the zipper on the backpack and pulled out the plastic bag. “These belong to you and…” I pulled out the notebook and ripped out the first page. “This is for you. Your wife loved you very much. You should know that. Those belonged to her.”

A soft ache crept from his mouth as his fingers cradled the bag and he fought his emotions. “You knew my wife? Did she suffer, did she…?”

I held up my hand. “I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing her, but my friend did. Your wife saved her life and helped her get out of California. My friend always wanted to find you, get that to you and say thank you.”

“Where is your friend?” Clark asked.

“She passed away. That’s what I’m doing here. You can say I’m finishing her quest. I’m trying to find her family and give them this notebook that she wrote in while searching for them.”

“That’s really amazing of you,” Clark said.

“She was a great woman and would do the same for me.” I squinted my eyes. “I think. Yeah, she would.”

“What was her name?” he asked, staring down to the baggy. “We’d like to include her in our prayers.”

“Lacey. Lacey Kale.”

His eyes lifted. “As in wife of Davis Kale?”

I immediately looked at Callie, then Clark. “I have been searching for him for three years. Davis Kale. Two kids. Jana…”

“…and Evan. His mother in law was with them, but she just passed away. That’s why they weren’t transferred here. They’re still dealing with that and decided to wait.”

“So you knew him? Were you with him?”

“Our families migrated together the last four times. We’ve been at Dakota One since May so that’s like, what? Three months.”

I spun to Callie. “Dakota One?’

“Thirty miles north of here,” Callie replied.

“Can we…?”

“No need to ask,” Callie cut me off. “I’ll see if I can get a jeep. Be right back.”

I wrapped my arms around Clark. “Thank you so much.”

“No, thank you.”

I looked down at his children, they were so well taken care of. As a mother I had to convey to Clark how proud Amber would have been.

Callie returned shortly and was authorized to take a jeep. We only had it for three hours and we had to leave quickly. I thanked Clark again and we left.

Driving to Dakota one, I carried a feeling of resolve in my heart. Completion was coming. I didn’t have a bad feeling, not at all. I was filled with excitement of finally finding the family that I grew to love, yet had never known.

I loved them from all I learned, and I loved them for Lacey.

It was crazy how it actually all looped together. Amber was the reason for the notebook, and the reason Lacey made it through that night. It brought her to James Herron and he afforded Lacey the ability to get to a point where I saw her.

Every single person we met played a vital role in each step. In a way it had come full circle. Lacey’s death became my mission. That notebook was the reason I knew the name James Herron. He discovered Davis’ name in the log. Without his help, I would have run out of time.

The notebook allowed me to recognize Clark, who in turn finally led me to Davis.

It was almost as if Lacey inadvertently created a plan B with her notebook.

When we arrived at Dakota One, I wanted to scream. In my excitement I failed to ask Clark if he knew where in the camp we’d find Davis.

The camp was huge and surrounded by a fence. There were no tents, just row after row of square white homes. They looked more like trailers, than houses.

Callie stopped the jeep and parked it at the entrance.

The guard told her where the command building was and we walked through the gate.

“We’ll head to the office,” Callie said. “See if they have a registry.”

I stopped and held out my arm. “No need.”

Lacey described it and there it was.

All the buildings looked the same, yet there it was, rising above them all, screaming to us, ‘Here, here we are.’

That Summer is Here, Sun Flag, her family.

It was hard to pinpoint which house it was on, but it was hoisted up high enough for us to follow.

Two sections in, four rows deep and several buildings down, we saw the flag.

The flag pole was attached to the roof.

I started running toward the house, but then I stopped.

“What is it?” Callie asked.

“What do I say?” I shook my head. “How do I approach this?”

Callie reached for the backpack, unzipped it and pulled out the notebook. “Start with this.”

I clutched it in my hand and walked slowly to the house. My heart pounded and I could barely breathe because of my nerves.

I reached to knock on the door as it opened.

There was no doubt it was Lacey’s husband, like with Clark I knew his face. Maybe it was my nerves, but I just blurted out his name, “Davis?”

He looked at me then to Callie. “Is something wrong?”

A lump formed in my throat. “I have something for you… from Lacey.” And I handed him the notebook.

Epilogue

The exchange between Davis and I wasn’t quite so simple. It was as if he knew the second he saw that notebook.

His fingers touched upon it and he broke down and wept in the doorway of his small, four room home.

It took a few moments for him to get it together and then he invited Callie and I inside.

Like me, he had received his resolution.

I met her children, they were grown. Jana was an adult and had a child of her own. A baby, just a few months old. Evan was a quiet and handsome young man who was well mannered. He sat close to me, like he knew me.

Maybe in a way I was part of their mother, or I carried a part of her they all so desperately needed.

More than I cared to admit, I needed to be with her family as well.

I didn’t leave that afternoon when Callie did. I stayed at Davis’ request. They wanted to hear it all, every single moment, every single detail, good and bad. They wanted to know.

In fact, I stayed for several months with them. Helping Jana be a new mother, absorbing for Lacey, that feeling of being a grandmother that I knew she would have loved.

My being with them was the perfect finish to a long journey. One that didn’t end too fast. I remained at that camp until it was time to take the ship back home.

Even four and a half years later, the north was a wasteland.

The US government and military had been refurbishing and cleaning up towns in the south. Davis and his family were being relocated to a small town in Georgia.

They were assigned housing and Davis was given a job at the new school.

Jana was going to be a nurse.

They asked me to stay with them. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t.

Even though I thought I had finished my mission, there was still a circle that needed to be closed.

In my own country, on familiar land, I headed west to El Paso.

With so much time passing and communications back, it was easy to find Callie and Del. When I got to El Paso, both had been living pretty normal lives.

Ruth had passed away the previous spring. She died peacefully in her sleep. In a surprising turn of events, Del had taken Stevie into his home, like an adopted older son.

Me, I had to think about what I was going to do. After finishing my resolution, I found I had no direction. I ended up joining the Recovery Corps with Callie. A division of the military dedicated to rebuilding the United States. Most of the country had been destroyed. Most of the world lost their lives. It was a challenge I was ready for. I had spent so much time since the event moving, searching and following a mission, that somewhere in it all, I lost myself.

What better way to find my purpose again, then to be part of starting something new.

I didn’t know where that road would take me or end, but I was certain it was the path to take.

<><><><>

Thank you so much for reading this book. I hope you enjoyed it. Please visit my website www.jacquelinedruga.com and sign up for my mailing list for updates, freebies, new releases and giveaways. And, don’t forget my new Kindle club!

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Copyright

Under the Gray Skies

By Jacqueline Druga

Copyright 2016 by Jacqueline Druga

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Thank you to Paula Gibson, Kira R., and Shona M for all your help. A lot of time and effort went into this from you guys and I appreciate it.

Cover Art by Christian Bentulan

www.coversbychristian.com

Content

Jacqueline Druga
UNDER THE GRAY SKIES

One – Backpack

TWO – Delayed

THREE – REFLECTION

Four – Jenga

FIVE – BIRTH

SIX – DELTA

Seven – Of Respect and Survival

Notebook – Day Eleven

EIGHT – Crossing

NINE – SLUMBER

Notebook – Day Twelve

TEN – Engage

ELEVEN – Stories

TWELVE – Blocked Window

THIRTEEN – TWO FLOORS HIGH

FOURTEEN – Theoretically Speaking

Notebook – Day Thirteen

FIFTEEN – MOVING ON

NOTE Book – Day Fifteen

SIXTEEN - ROUND TWO

SEVENTEEN – IN PLANE VIEW

EIGHTEEN – DANCING ON THE EDGE

NOTEBOOK – Day Seventeen

Nineteen – Decisions

TWENTY – LAST ON LEFT

NOTEBOOK – DAY TWENTY

Twenty-One – The Beast

TWENTY-TWO – Veer

NOTEBOOK – DAY TWENTY-ONE

Twenty-Two – Crushed

Notebook – Day Twenty-THREE

TWENTY-THREE – Burned out

Twenty-four – Pompeii

TWENTY-FIVE – FORGET ME NOTS

NOTEBOOK – DAY TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX – Thievery

NOTEBOOK – Day Twenty-six

TWENTY-SEVEN – Vent

TWENTY-EIGHT - XOLOTI

NOTEBOOK – Day Twenty-Eight

Twenty-nine – Frozen

Notebook – THE NOTE

Thirty – Stalled

THIRTY-ONE – Switch

THIRTY-TWO – Aftermath

Thirty-Three – Learning Lacey

Thirty-Four – Needle

THRITY-FIVE – Summer

Epilogue

Copyright