Curtain Fall: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 1) (21 page)

“It’s just that if I don’t show up for school she’ll call looking for me. What should I tell her?”

John silently considered a few believable excuses and settled on sickness. “Just tell her you’re sick . . .” he said. He didn’t want to offer up the same excuse he used at work, “. . . that you have a fever and a headache.” He paused a moment and added, “And I’ll call the school tomorrow morning and tell them the same.” He put his hand on Adam’s shoulder and said, “Don’t get too worked up about your friends. We’ll figure something out.”

John ushered Adam in and said, “I need to talk to you mother. Go ahead and get ready for bed. It will be a busy day tomorrow.”

J
ohn sat on his bed, and with a pad and pen in hand, he listed the things he wanted to purchase at Costco. He was going mostly on familiarity, having visited Costco once or twice a month for the past several years, but he knew he’d see something he forgot to add when he got there. That’s how Costco worked for John anyway, go in the store with plans to buy one or two items, and come out with a full cart.

He refined the shopping list while Jenna prepared for bed, and couldn’t stop thinking about how inconvenient a family gathering would be with all that they wanted to do to prepare for the coming disaster. It seemed like a good idea when he had it, but now that he had a lengthy to-do list, and a big shopping list, he wasn’t sure he could make it happen without neglecting some other important element of preparation.

If he invited family and friends over for a Saturday afternoon bar-b-que, his entire day would be dedicated to cooking and entertaining, instead of preparing. There were so many things he wanted to accomplish on Saturday, that the thought of losing the entire day made him moan.

John dropped the note pad on the bed and said, “Honey, have you said anything to anyone about our bar-b-que plans for Saturday?”

“To whom?” she yelled from deep within the master bathroom closet. “I can barely hear you from in here,” she added.

John got up and entered the adjoining bathroom. “I said, have you talked to anyone about our Saturday gathering idea?”

“Raymond called while you were in the garage,” replied Jenna, as she walked into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. “But
I didn’t say anything to him about Saturday. I wasn’t sure you were really up to it.”

“God bless you,”
thought John, and he said, “Babe, you’re awesome.”

“So I take it you’ve had a change of heart?”

“You can say that,” replied John. “I want to show you my lists.”

Raymond was the last person John wanted to see this close to the disaster. He was Jenna’s older brother, and insanely protective of her, as if she wasn’t married or something. He called Jenna every night, which John thought was admirable, but it was also strange.

According to Jenna, it was a custom Raymond picked up while John was deployed to Iraq. For some reason, he managed to hold on to that custom despite the fact that John was no longer even in the army. But he had other problems with Raymond that went far beyond the sibling relationship with his wife. John felt Raymond was a sluggard.

Raymond settled in the town of Euless, which was about thirty to forty minutes away. It was a move to capitalize on the housing boom that continued uninterrupted in the high-end towns around Grapevine Lake. Because the work remained sure and steady, he decided to relocate his family. It was a move Jenna appreciated much more than John.

As far as John was concerned, Raymond was a pain in the butt. He consistently postured around John, acting as if he had something to prove. John wasn’t sure why he acted the way he did, it was just annoying. John had no interest in competing with Raymond in anything, but if he mentioned something about anything, Raymond had been there and done it, only better.

The tension between them was palpable, and because of it, John tried to avoid Raymond as much as possible. As for Raymond’s wife, Cindy, she was an absolute delight to be around. And, for the most part, so were her kids. Ray and Cindy’s oldest daughter, Jessica, was ten. Then there was the studious, Robert, who was eight, and destructive, Leland, who was five.

The kids loved coming over. They’d play outside all day, either running around the property, swimming, or playing “fort” in John’s deer
stand. John understood why they liked playing outside, because Ray’s house had a small back yard, and was in the compact suburban neighborhood with no park or greenbelt. The kids loved the space around John’s house more than anything, and he liked that they liked it.

Besides Raymond and his family, the next closest in-laws were Jenna’s folks. Jenna’s father, a retired field artillery sergeant major, decided to retire where he worked most of his military life, that being Fort Sill, Oklahoma. He lived in the town of Lawton, which bordered the instillation. From John’s house, it was about a three hour drive to Lawton, which meant it was just far enough away that Jenna’s folks just didn’t stop in to say “hi,” like Raymond and Cindy sometimes did. Fortunately, John really liked Jenna’s folks. And they saw each other enough to keep the relationship healthy and unimposing.

John’s mom moved to Santa Fe, New Mexico, after his dad died. That put her more than ten hours away by car, so their reunions were few and far between. He wondered if she could make it here before the ash started to fall, but he doubted she would come even if he pleaded with her.

His mom made a new life for herself by settling down with some desert, hippy artist. That was Jenna’s title for him, not John’s, though he did agree with her. The man did remind John of a sixties era hippy, with his long gray hair pulled back in a ponytail, a bandana wrapped around his head, and a cheap Mexican poncho draped over his shoulders.

Hippy or not, he was a good painter, and made enough to support himself. The two of them lived up in the mountains overlooking Santa Fe, and they seemed to enjoy their semi-isolated, self-reliant lifestyle.

John doubted she would leave. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized she was probably pretty safe where she was. Or at least safer than where most people were. He didn’t know if they were prepared, so she deserved a warning, but he wasn’t quite sure how to go about it.

The remainder of John and Jenna’s families were spread out across the United States. John, the oldest of five, had a brother and two sisters
in California, and a sister in Portland. Jenna, the youngest of four, had two more brothers, one in Kentucky, and the other in Massachusetts. Fortunately, none of their immediate, or even extended family, lived anywhere near the Yellowstone Caldera. Portland was close, but not too close to really worry about.

John tried to stay in touch with everyone in the family, and for the most part he did, but they hadn’t been together since his dad’s funeral. The army had turned John into a bit of a nomad, so he was fine with not seeing the family very often. Besides, there was always too much drama when everyone was together.

He figured the next time they got together it would be to eulogize another family member. It’s just the way things were. John wasn’t a fan of funerals, having attended more than his share, but he couldn’t deny they were good for the family; at least from a family reunion standpoint.

As for friends, John had many, but there were few he would allow himself to get close to. His closest friend, and brother-at-arms, was Pete, a fellow Soldier with whom John served in Iraq. Pete was John’s tactical complement, and his sanity check. The two men shared a bond of brotherhood that only trail by combat could forge. Pete also recently retired, and settled down on a piece of land overlooking Lake Belton, which was near Fort Hood, and about a three-hour drive from John’s.

Then there was Mark, a former Department of Defense safety contractor. John and Pete met Mark in Iraq, and the three quickly aligned. Mark left the Special Forces after suffering a back injury, but he couldn’t stay away. When war broke out in Iraq, he found a way to return, though as a civilian contractor. Like Pete, John trusted Mark with his life.

For some reason unknown to both John and Pete, Mark decided to settle down in San Antonio, Texas. For John, he might as well have moved to Mars. It was close to a five hour drive to reach Mark’s place, and John had yet to venture the trip.

When the three friends got together, it was usually for their annual hunting trip. And because they preferred the larger mule deer found in Colorado and Wyoming, to the smaller white-tail deer of Texas,
Mark and Pete linked up with John at his house to launch their hunting expeditions.

The three men hunted together, but they also tried to commit to spending Thanksgiving together. The later rarely panned out, but they talked frequently and shared an occasional email and text that related to guns and hunting. But their annual hunting trip was sacred.

Jenna too had several girlfriends, but her best friend, and former college roommate, was a woman named Sara. Sara made a living of living in Austin, Texas. After graduating from the University of Texas, she managed to find a comfortable job and settle down, but she remained single and was in no way interested in getting married. A liberal at heart, John wondered how Sara would take to the news that the world was about to end. He figured she’d laugh at him, and then prescribe some anti-psychotic medications.

The mental exercise convinced John that there was no reason to have a gathering. Everyone he really cared about was too far away to come. There simply wasn’t enough time to make it happen. But he knew he would have to do something to at least warn them of the coming disaster.

Jenna was sitting at the vanity, and plucking her eyebrows when John returned to the bathroom. He sat on the bathroom counter near her and said, “I don’t think we should have a gathering. We’ve got way too much work to do.”

“That’s fine with me,” said Jenna. “I didn’t think you were up to it anyway.”

“I doubt your folks would drive down, so it would probably be just Raymond, Cindy and the kids.”

“What about your work friends . . . what about Terry?” asked Jenna.

“Can’t,” said John. “Mom’s sick, remember?”

Jenna squinted at John and said, “That’s fine, John. We didn’t commit to it.”

He studied her body language for a moment and decided that she really was okay with it, so he changed gears. He felt adamant about
spreading the word, at least to his friends and family, so he said, “I think I should warn a few people.”

“I do, too,” replied Jenna.

John resumed breathing and asked, “But who do you think I should tell?”

“I think you should tell everyone,” replied Jenna, with a matter-of-fact tone.

He wasn’t quite sure what she meant by “everyone,” so John framed his pervious question with, “I was just thinking about sending an email to the family, and a few of our close friends, but that’s it.” He paused and watched her as she removed a contact lens first from one eye, and then the next. When she didn’t reply, John added, “Unless there’s someone specific you want me to include . . . someone other than family or friend?”

She thought for a moment and said, “I can’t think of anyone outside our circle that I’d want you to share your concern with . . . certainly not the people at church. But let me see your distribution list before you send anything. I may want to include someone you forgot.”

John agreed, and left the bathroom to fetch his laptop. He sat at the dining room table, and with fingers poised over the keyboard, he carefully considered how best to craft the letter.

For reasons he didn’t understand, or couldn’t even explain, John needed his family and friends to believe him. He took the disaster seriously, but he knew they wouldn’t. They didn’t know what he knew, or have a dream, or some other kind of significant emotional event to motivate them like he did. Still, he had to try and convince everyone of the importance of what was about to happen.

Besides, John knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t at least try and warn them. Even if they laughed at him, or thought he was crazy and had lost his mind, he felt he owed them a chance at their own survival.

John studied his list of contacts and added a handful of names to the “to” box. He then began to pluck away at the keyboard in earnest, and wrote;

Hello everyone,

I know it’s been a while since some of us have talked, but I have important news I need to share with you. However, before I begin, I want to start by asking you to consider my reputation as a son, a brother, a friend, a soldier, and a man. I’ve always strove to be honest and forthright with all of you, and I hope you continue to grant me your trust, love and respect.

Most of you have known me for years. You know what I have done, and what I’ve been through. But you also know that I see things a little differently than most people. That difference may stem from my life experiences, or it might be a deeper part of me. I don’t know. But regardless of that difference, I’ve been, and always will be, honest and forthright with all of you.

My message is one of concern about our future. I have very good reason to believe that the recent news of the Yellowstone Caldera is much more serious than the media is willing or able to report. In fact, I’m concerned enough to take steps to prepare for the eruption as if I know it will actually happen. That knowledge comes from many years of experience analyzing data, and forming potential outcomes and conclusions. It’s true, I don’t know for certain, but I’m not willing to bet my life, or the lives of my friends and family, on the possibility that it won’t erupt. That means this message is a word of warning, and it’s yours to consider or act upon as you see fit.