Castroville: Countdown to Armageddon: Book 7 (27 page)

     They’d known each other since high school, where Joe was one of the coolest guys Mark knew. Joe knew everything about music from the good old days. The music from the 60s and 70s. Back when music was good, and you could understand the lyrics. And every other word wasn’t profane.

     They’d played this game almost as long as they’d been friends. Mark would find an obscure song lyric and try to stump Joe. But he seldom succeeded. Joe played five instruments, and had been in various garage bands since he was ten. Music was pretty much his life. At least when he wasn’t at Exxon counting cigarettes.

     The line was a lot longer than usual. A rolling marquee above the cash register said the Powerball jackpot was at $310 million. Mark let out a slow whistle. That was a good chunk of change.

     He seldom played the lottery himself, but Hannah did all the time. Poor sweet thing. She’d been stuck at home with the flu for the last week and hadn’t been able to get out. But he knew she’d have gotten herself a ticket if she hadn’t been sick.

     So as a last-second lark, he told the clerk to throw in a quick pick for the lottery, cash option, and paid two extra bucks. It was worth two dollars to make Hannah smile that beautiful smile. And it was the least he could do for her, for thinking enough to record the game for him.

     But Mark forgot to give her the ticket. Forgot to even take it into the house. He laid it on the passenger seat of his Explorer and it sailed down to the floorboard when a dog ran in front of him and he had to hit the brakes hard. And he pulled into the driveway, took his beer and watched the game, and never gave it another thought.

     On Thursday, Mark was doing a sales pitch to a banker who was worried because his neighbor three doors down had been a recent victim of a home invasion. The banker’s community was gated and a private security company made their rounds occasionally, but none of that had stopped the brazen thieves from posing as utility workers.

     In broad daylight, they knocked on his neighbor’s door, and flashed fake IDs to gain access to the back yard “to check the power lines.” From there, they cut the phone cable, kicked in the back door, and tied up the occupants before leisurely looting the place of all its valuables. They even stopped long enough to make themselves a sandwich before leaving.

     Thievery, it seems, works up one’s appetite.

     The banker decided he needed a better security system, and Mark was trying to convince him that he was the man for the job.

     Mark’s cell phone went off. A little bird whistling “I’ve Got Sunshine” told him he had a text message from Hannah. He hit the mute button and went on with his presentation.

     Half an hour later he’d sealed the deal and was returning to his Explorer when he remembered the text. It said “Call me ASAP.”

     Oops.

     But luckily Hannah wasn’t mad. She was way too excited.

     “Did you hear about Joe’s store?” she asked him.

     He answered with a bit of apprehension. “No. Did they get robbed again? Is he okay?”

     “Oh, yeah, I’d say so! I heard on the news that they sold the winning ticket to the Powerball drawing. Somebody won over two hundred million dollars after taxes. And it’s somebody that lives right here in San Angelo. Wouldn’t it be cool if it’s somebody we know?”

     “Baby, hold on a minute.”

     Mark put the phone down and took out his wallet. The ticket he had purchased on Sunday night wasn’t there. Crap! Did he leave it on the counter at the store? Did some cretin come up behind him and pick it up?

     He instinctively felt his pants pockets, even though he knew he wasn’t wearing the same jeans he had on Sunday night.

     Then, on the floorboard of the passenger side of his ride, he saw a lonely piece of paper. And he remembered that damn dog.

     He picked up the ticket, then the phone.

     “Honey, don’t freak out,” he said. “But I bought you a ticket on Sunday night and forgot to give it to you. Would you go on line and see what the winning numbers are and read them to me?”

     The next thirty seconds lasted twenty years.

     Hannah came back on the line and said “Okay, here goes. 13, 25, 26, 44, 57, and the Powerball is 18.”

     Mark’s chest actually started to hurt, and he felt faint. In his mind’s eye, he saw Redd Foxx playing Fred Sanford, holding his chest and saying “This is it. It’s the big one…”

     But Mark wasn’t having a heart attack. Mark was experiencing what it felt to find out that you were suddenly a multi-millionaire.

     Hannah didn’t believe him, of course. She thought he was playing one of his dumb practical jokes. She met him at the door as he walked in and presented her the ticket as a new father might present his first born to a hospital nursery visitor.

     “Be careful,” he said. “Don’t damage it or tear it or sneeze on it.”

     The next day was Friday, and Hannah insisted on getting up and going to work. Even though she only got an hour’s worth of sleep. Mark stayed behind in bed, telling her just to call in and say “Go to hell, you bastards. I’m rich!”

     But Hannah was a scientist and an honorable one at that. She was above doing such a thing. She’d wait until her boss pissed her off. Then she’d tell the bastards to go to hell.

     When they parted that morning, both of them were on cloud nine. They’d spent most of the night talking about all the great things they’d do with their new fortune. They laughed when they thought of sour old Reverend Samuels, and how he might actually crack a smile when they presented him with a tithe check for ten percent of their winnings.

     They talked about which European countries they’d visit first, and even considered buying their own Caribbean Island.

     Yes, when they parted that morning, neither had a care in the world.

     What a difference a day makes.

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If you enjoyed

COUNTDOWN TO ARMAGEDDON

Book 7: Castroville

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RED: The Adventure Begins

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     Red had a worried look on her face.

     And Red never worried about anything.

     “Dad, I don’t like this. This isn’t just a typical blackout. This is something worse. Much worse.”

     “Now, honey, don’t jump to conclusions. It’s only been a little more than a day. We’ve had blackouts that lasted longer than this before.

     “Look at it like an unearned vacation. We didn’t ask for it, but it’s here. Let’s take a day off and go fishing. Heck, we can’t do anything here anyway.”

     But Red was adamant.

     “No, Dad. You aren’t listening. Haven’t you noticed we haven’t had any traffic since the power went out? I mean,
none.
In a day and a half we haven’t had a single car roll into town. You know why? Because the cars are all dead, that’s why.

     “Bonnie and I rode up to the highway this morning. I wanted to see if I could find which transformer blew, and whether they had a crew out there replacing it.

     “What I found instead were abandoned cars, as far as the eye could see, in either direction. Many of them had their hoods up, like their owners had been trying to get them running again.

     “There are people up on the highway just wandering around, not knowing what to do. People sleeping in their cars. People in shock.

     “Dad, what in the world could possibly cause all the cars to stop working at precisely the same time all the power went out?”

     Her father’s face suddenly turned ashen.

     He stumbled over his words.

     “A nuclear blast at high altitude could have caused it. But only a few countries have the capability of doing that. And they have no reason to. It would harm them as much as us.

     “There’s only one other thing I know of that could cause such chaos.”

     He didn’t want to go on.

     But she needed to know.

     “One of the things pilots study is the affect the other planets and sun can have on our own planet. How their gravitational pulls can affect our compasses and such.

      There’s a phenomenon that can occur during a massive solar storm. If the storm is large enough, it can send electromagnetic pulses toward the earth. Those pulses can short out anything that runs on electrical power.”

     “Dad, please tell me it’s just temporary. That things will start working again once the solar storm has passed.”

     “No, honey. I’m sorry. If that’s what’s caused this, then it’s permanent.”

     He held her close before finishing.

     “And we’re all doomed.”