Curtain Fall: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 1) (6 page)

“Yes. I’m fine,” replied John. And then he added, “Sorry, I was lost in thought,” followed by another involuntary reflex to look at his watch. He immediately regretted it and cringed.

“Are we keeping you from something, John?” asked Rebecca.

John attempted to play it off, “Beg your pardon?”

“You’re not with us this morning . . . and you keep checking your watch. That’s the third time since the meeting started. Do you have another appointment?” she added, with what seemed like barely contained verbal annoyance. But John could tell from her body language that she was irritated with him, and his lack of attention.

John realized he should probably spin his distraction off into another direction, but the staff meeting was not the time, or the place. “No, I’m fine,” he replied. “But I’d like to discuss a personal matter with you after the meeting . . . if you’re available?”

She shook her head slightly, surprised at John’s request, and said, “Sure, of course.” John never had to make an appointments to see Rebecca, her door was always open to him because of his position and responsibilities, but she played along with his request and carried on with the meeting.

As the meeting continued, John’s mind was continuously occupied by thoughts of the Caldera. Perhaps that’s what bothered him most, the
fact that he couldn’t take his mind off it.
“What is it about the Caldera that’s holding me captive?”
he wondered to himself. Every free moment was obsessively consumed with thoughts of the Caldera.

He somehow managed to remain engaged through all the pertinent discussions, but a nagging feeling that something about the Caldera related specifically to him was growing. With an increasing level of frustration, John almost excused himself from the meeting. But if he did that, he knew it would raise questions, questions he couldn’t answer for himself, let alone someone else.

Everyone could tell he was distracted. It was as if he was on another planet, and several of his co-workers noticed. When the meeting broke up, Tony approached John and asked him if he was OK. At that point, John knew he had to say something to alleviate everyone’s concerns about his mental health, but he didn’t know what to say.

He certainly didn’t want to openly admit to having concerns about news of the Yellowstone Caldera. Discussions of apocalyptic disasters, no matter how probable they might be, had a way of darkly coloring most conversations. He knew, from experience, that most people just didn’t like hearing or talking about world changing disasters.

Few people had any real interest in disaster preparedness and survival. To discuss such a topic, without first adequately testing the waters, would make him sound crazy and paranoid. And the last thing he needed to do was sound crazy and paranoid, especially at work.

All eyes were on John as they waited for a reply. Tony had asked the one question they were all thinking, “What’s up with John?”

The look in their eyes told him everything he needed to know. One minute they were connected with him, aligned and supportive, even admiring. And the next, they were staring at him as if he had a horn growing from his forehead. He was familiar with that response when he raised the subject of disaster preparedness, but he hadn’t said anything. He wondered if he was that easy to read.

Truth was not an option for John. Regardless of how well he argued in favor of emergency preparedness, or how likely it was that a major
disaster was sure to happen, he couldn’t just blurt out that he was concerned about a volcano that had yet to threaten human civilization. The threat was real enough for him, and it served to justify his preparedness efforts to date, but he knew he stood very much alone in his fears.

He also knew that some people considered talking about disasters as an invitation for them to happen. If he came out and said, “I think the Yellowstone Caldera is about to erupt,” his co-workers would know he lost his mind. Fear of his reputation, and of ridicule and scorn, prevented him from speaking the truth.

He wanted to yell, “Go home and prepare! Right now!” But who was he to prompt them? He wasn’t a geologist, a volcanologist, or any other “oligist.” He wasn’t even a subject-matter expert on preparedness. He was just an average guy, with an average voice, and an average mind. He had no rocks big enough to throw and attract anyone’s attention. He had no metaphorical windows to break, or whistles to blow. He was on his own – at least until he understood what was really bothering him about the Caldera.

John looked at Tony and said, “It’s my mom . . . she’s in the hospital . . . very sick.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Tony, and he began to shift his weight from left to right, as if he had to pee. He was obviously uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. John thought, “
Why’d you ask if you weren’t prepared for my response?”
Instead of saying what he was thinking, John took a deep breath and forced a smile. “It’s okay, Tony,” said John. He was happy to see his answer pleased the others, and they immediately turned away and left the conference room.

Tony was staring at John, obviously unsure about what to say. John saved him the trouble by saying, “I better go catch up with Rebecca. I’ll come find you when I’m done,” and he excused himself and headed to Rebecca’s office.

T
he meeting with Rebecca went better than John could have expected. He stuck to the same story he gave Tony, the one about his mother being sick in the hospital, and offered little in terms of embellishment. He didn’t like lying, regardless of how trivial or necessary it seemed at the moment, but he was certain that he would have to expand on his story if he was going to ask for some time off.

He knew better than to offer details too early into the story, and he definitely didn’t want to fall into any traps and have to justify his lie with even more lies later, so he kept his story straight and to the point. John knew that the only thing worse than lying was being caught in a lie, but he also knew he couldn’t tell Rebecca the truth, that he was worried the world might be coming to an end, and he needed a few days off to prepare.

John felt justified in asking for time off because it had been more than eight months since he was away from the office on a work day. He deserved a break, but he hated going about it in this fashion.

During the meeting, he decided to make a few more preparations, and the only way he could accomplish that was to take a couple days off. His survival readiness was good, but not where he wanted it to be if the world was about to change. John figured he’d need about two days. Besides, it was about all he could afford and not fall too far behind on his accounts, even with Tony’s assistance.

Tony was solid, a reliable stand-in, but he didn’t possess John’s skills in predictive analysis, nor did he possess the level of client trust that John enjoyed. Like his clients, the lead partner also trusted John,
so he knew better than to risk being away from his desk for more than a few days.

But John felt so strongly about the potential threat posed by the Yellowstone Caldera that he actually considered quitting if Rebecca didn’t agree to give him the time off. Fortunately, it didn’t come to that.

The reality that the Caldera was becoming an obsession seemed to bother him as much as the lie. He didn’t understand the desperation he felt, how it was gnawing away on his mind like some alien creature, or a bomb ticking away, ready to explode in his head at any moment.

Thankfully, Rebecca wrapped up the small talk by scanning her computer monitor. She turned and was about to excuse herself back to work when John said, “Thanks Rebecca . . . for the time off and all. I know its short notice, but it’s really important to me.”

Rebecca stood and, with her left hand balancing her body over her desk, leaned forward and offered her right hand to John. “No problem,” she said, looking him square in the eyes. “In fact, if you need more time off just . . . give me a call.”

John accepted her handshake. They gripped firmly, pumped lightly two times, and then released. With nothing more to say, John grabbed his briefcase and left her office.

When he reached the door, Rebecca asked, “John, could you please close the door on your way out? I’ve got a few calls to make.”

John turned with a nod and pulled the door closed behind him. Once in the hall, he took several deep breaths to lower his heart rate, and headed for the stairs. He didn’t know what it was about being in Rebecca’s office that raised his blood pressure, but it always did.

Relieved for the first time since hearing the news, John glided down the stairs to his office floor. In fact, he was so relieved that he smiled and subdued an impulse to run to his office and call Jenna. He owed her a call, but not from the hallway, and not until he could come up with a reason to justify the time off. Jenna would hear the truth, but for her it was all about timing.

John reached his office and shut the door. He needed time to organize his thoughts, so he leaned back in his fine leather chair and looked up at the ceiling as a million thoughts raced through his head. The first thought he settled on, or at least the one he let his mind settle on, was about his current level of preparedness. Was he ready for a disaster on the scale of a Yellowstone Caldera eruption?

John knew that a disaster that killed a lot of people, but left resources relatively untouched, was better than a disaster that destroyed all the resources, but left a lot of people alive. It was a hard and cruel fact, but survival hinged on the availability of resources – basic resources, like food and water. Disaster survival boiled down to a simple matter of resource availability and consumption.

The more people that survived a disaster, the more resources they would need to stay alive. He considered the effects of a pandemic, or any type of biological outbreak that introduced a high mortality rate. Such a disaster would be a good example of taking many lives, but leave resources pretty much intact. John recalled the story, “The Earth Abides” by George R. Stewart. Even “The Stand,” by Stephen King, speculated on a high mortality rate with a high rate of resource availability.

Numerous authors have speculated on survival following an economic collapse, but any disaster that doesn’t claim human lives, that doesn’t “thin the herd,” would make survival very challenging. Restricted, or severely diminished food and water supplies, will result in a devastating loss of human life under any circumstances, but especially after a disaster.

John considered a disaster that would leave both population and resources relatively untouched, and he settled on the ever popular Electro-Magnetic Pulse, or EMP scenario. In John’s opinion, the most entertaining book ever written on the subject was that by William Forstchen, titled “One Second After.”

Though Forstchen’s idea was entertaining, John thought it was a bit unrealistic in places. Sure, people have become entirely dependent on electricity, but a complete and total collapse of the power grid, be it from
an EMP or a CME, was fantasy for John. He was prepared to live without electricity.

He was also bothered with how Forstchen handled the needs of the main character’s diabetic daughter. Abby, John’s only daughter, was also a T1D, but he would never stand around and watch as she died without insulin. Sure, it was only a story, but the truth of it in John’s life hit home. He would give his life for his daughter, and do everything in his power to guarantee hers.

John’s only fear about an EMP or CME event that killed the power, is that he could be far from home with nothing but his suit and tie as survival gear. It’s one of the reasons he carried a gun, and kept a go-to bag in both cars. His Suburban wasn’t equipped with electronic fuel injection, but he wasn’t willing to bet his life on the assumption that he would be able to drive it home when every car on the street was blocking his path.

Then there’s celestial impacts. John recalled “Lucifer’s Hammer,” by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle. They speculated on disaster survival following the effects of a large meteor impact. As hard as it is to accept celestial impacts as a threat, they are real and they do exist. John recalled reading an article in the newspaper a few years ago about a large chunk of rock, one the size of a school bus. The meteor passed within the moon’s orbit of the earth, and it received surprisingly little press. Apparently people aren’t interested in hearing how space, that vast empty expanse that surrounds us, poses a very real threat to human existence.

Then there’s war, the most devastating of all disasters known to man. Few people realize that we’ve lost more people to war than to any other disaster, or combination of disasters, across time. John felt American’s tended to forget how lucky they were to not have war within their borders. Not since the Civil War has warfare plagued America. But as bloody as that war was, it still didn’t result in total chaos. Average American citizens weren’t looting and killing each other in the city streets, or fighting for their daily survival.

Given the size of America, and the freedoms afforded by the Second Amendment, a foreign invasion was unlikely. But a nuclear attack was
always possible. There was a number of foreign countries that would love nothing more than to see America brought to its knees through the use of nukes, but as long as the ability to retaliate remained viable, it probably wouldn’t come to that.