Authors: Kenneth Cary
Tags: #Christian Books & Bibles, #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery & Suspense, #Religion & Spirituality, #New Age & Spirituality, #Angels & Spirit Guides, #Christian Fiction, #Spirituality, #Angels
Five miles later they passed a huge FEDEX processing and distribution center on their right. Countless over-the-road trailers sat lined along a concrete pad that was the length of a small runway strip. “I’m guessing they won’t be delivering packages anytime soon,” said Bonnie.
“Did you see any signs of activity?” asked Pete.
“No activity, and no lights. Why?”
“Well, it might be a good place to scavenge sometime down the road. I know we’re not far from John’s, and there’s no telling what we could find there. I’ll have to tell him about it,” said Pete. He also noticed a line of shipping containers to his left, but he wasn’t close enough to see any more than that.
They traveled on in relative silence. Bonnie was alert for road signs, or any recognizable terrain feature, and Pete drove steadily onward. He was lost in thoughts about what to expect when he arrived at John’s. He knew John’s invitation was good, but it was offered in what seemed to Pete like several years ago. He also knew, from experience, that people often offered courtesies they hoped would never come to pass.
Pete was a man of his word, and he knew John to be the same, but so much had changed since the disaster that he was afraid to make any assumptions about anything. He hoped, prayed even, that John’s door would be open for them; that he would be happy to see them. If John turned them away, he had no idea what they would do. He didn’t think Bonnie could handle a return trip. It would ruin her. After living out of the truck for almost three days, she was at her saturation point. Everything hinged on John’s open door.
Pete looked at Bonnie, and when she turned to look at him, he smiled. “You OK?” he asked.
“I’m fine. I’m just tired of traveling,” she said.
“Me too. Isn’t John’s road somewhere up ahead?”
“Yeah. It should be coming up in a few miles. Do you remember the turn into his development?”
“I do, but it was hard to spot on a normal day. With the ash we’re really going to have to keep our eyes open,” said Pete.
They covered the remaining miles and turned onto the last road of their trip. Pete tried to keep his heart rate under control. He didn’t want to display any anxiety in front of Bonnie, and give her a reason to feel concern about their fate. He knew he had to maintain an air of confidence, even if he didn’t feel confident.
When they came to an area where they thought John’s development should be, Pete slowed, but he didn’t see any sign that indicated a neighborhood of man vehicles. “I don’t see his entrance,” said Pete. He saw several possibilities, but none that seemed like a road leading to John’s place. And, after being shot at, he didn’t want to risk driving across someone’s private property again.
“Do you think we passed it?” asked Bonnie, as she read Pete’s growing frustration.
“I think so, but it’s hard to tell with all the ash. I think I’ll turn around and let you watch from your side of the truck,” answered Pete. He continued up the road until he found a safe place to turn around. As they headed back, Pete saw a place with fairly fresh tire tracks. He stopped and looked up the road. “That’s more of a climb than I remember, but I think that’s the entrance,” said Pete.
Pete turned up the road, and as soon as they passed between the wooded areas that boarded the neighborhood entrance, he said, “Yup. This is the place.”
Pete drove slowly past John’s house, but he did not stop. He studied it closely and saw that it was completely dark. “That’s not good,” he said.
“What’s not good?” replied Bonnie with concern.
“John’s place is completely dark,” said Pete.
“Of course it’s completely dark, and so is everyone else’s home around here. Why do you think John would have all his lights on?” asked Bonnie.
“You’re right,” said Pete. He studied the other homes in John’s neighborhood and saw that none of them appeared to be running generators. He saw light spilling from a few windows, but it was dim, like that given off by candlelight. “There’s no security at all,” said Pete.
“What?”
“I thought this place would be buttoned up tight . . . that John would have security up and running.”
“Maybe they don’t feel threatened enough to have guards yet,” said Bonnie. “They’re pretty far from Fort Worth.”
“True, but there are a few heavily populated suburban areas near here. It’s just that it’s not like John to ignore something as simple as a little security,” said Pete.
“It’s only been a day or two since the ash started to fall,” reminded Bonnie.
“Yes. I do keep forgetting that,” said Pete. He drove around the block and returned to John’s house. Pete slowed and stopped in front of John’s mailbox, and then carefully studied the property. “It looks like he boarded up all his windows . . . at least the ones on the bottom floor,” he said, after several minutes of silent observation, “but I don’t see anything out of place. There’s a van in the driveway. I wonder who it belongs to.”
“Maybe someone from Jenna’s side of the family,” offered Bonnie.
“Maybe.” Pete looked at his watch and saw that it was well into early Monday morning. “I think it’s best to just sit tight and wait for John to come to us. He knows my truck.”
“Argh, I was looking forward to sleeping in a bed tonight,” groaned Bonnie.
“Same here,” said Pete, “but we don’t even know if they’re home. You go ahead and rest in the back. I’ll take first watch,” finished Pete. The thought of sleep seemed to induce a wide and lengthy yawn, and he wasn’t inclined to suppress it.
A
fter fueling and restarting the generator, John and Pete returned to the house and settled in the den for a continuation of their conversation. John listened intently as Pete settled into a smooth flowing report of his trip. Pete left out few details, but when he did, John was quick to inquire of his friend about important information. The process allowed John to paint a vivid mental picture of Pete’s locations and activities. For the most part, John allowed Pete to share the story with few minor interruptions. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for some of the other occupants of the house.
Adam was very excited to see Pete, and he was the first to barge into the den and demand a hug from his adopted uncle. Abby followed his lead a few minutes later. Adam and Abby loved Pete, which was something that always intrigued John. He often playfully accused Pete of bribing them with money, but Pete loved the attention, and treated them like his own. Corbin, and the entire Hernandez brood, only chanced a brief look at Pete from a manageable interior distance, or from around a corner. He and John were seemingly glued together, and John’s hero status seemed to apply equally well to Pete, at least as far as the children were concerned. Bonnie, on the other hand, embraced all the children, and quickly established herself as a group aunt.
The house was now very much alive and awake, and John was grateful he was being given an opportunity to catch up with Pete. It had been several months since they had last seen each other and John did, indeed, think of Pete as his brother. The disaster, and Pete’s
willingness to risk his and Bonnie’s life to reach him, had elevated John’s love for Pete to a new level. John wasn’t sure if Pete knew how much his arrival lifted his spirits, and comforted his mind about their chances of survival, but he was sure to tell him so.
When Pete wrapped up his report with, “And that’s about the extent of it.” John looked down at the notes he scribbled on the yellow legal pad that rested on his lap. He knew it was crazy out there, but he had no idea it was as crazy as Pete reported. John cleared his throat and said, “Well, I know you have an opinion about what’s going on here, but let me share what’s been happening on this end, and then we’ll compare notes.”
It was John’s turn to report to Pete everything he had experienced, from the time he sent out the warning email, to the time he saw Pete’s truck parked out front. He noticed Pete seemed very interested in John’s account of the hospital trip, but he didn’t ask why. John admired Pete’s listening skills, which were better than his own, but John knew he offered a much more detailed report of his activities. He left very little to his friend’s imagination.
“Wow,” said Pete, “so you’ve been busy too . . . much more than I thought you would.”
“I just can’t believe you made it up here,” said John. “I mean, I know you’re more than capable, and I’m very glad you’re here, more than you know, but I’m just surprised you came.” Pete leaned back in the soft leather arm chair and yawned. Before he could reply, John said, “I am so sorry. You must be absolutely exhausted. Why don’t you go take a nap . . . we can finish up later.”
“It’s OK. I’ll be fine. But honestly, John, you were my second choice,” replied Pete.
“I got that,” said John, with a snort. “But I would have done the same thing. Fort Hood should have been a sanctuary for you, not a threat. What do you think will happen down there?”
“I don’t know, but I’m thinking it will eventually fall apart. They can try to treat the installation like it was Victory Base in Baghdad,
but Victory wasn’t surrounded by thousands of hungry people.” Pete saw John’s eyes get big and he offered an amendment, “Well, OK, there were hungry Iraqis, but what Hood will face will be nothing like what we saw in Baghdad. Besides, the question will be, just how far will the army go to protect the fort. Will they shoot civilians . . . their own citizens . . . the people they swore to protect?”
“I believe they would,” said John. “They won’t see them as citizens. The army will paint them up to be a deadly horde of flesh eating zombies, or something like that. Besides, the Soldiers will also be motivated by their own safety, and that of their families,” answered John.
“I think they’ll leave,” said Pete. “The command will try to keep them busy . . . and they’ll manage for a little while, say a month or two, but when the conditions change, like when the food gets low and the fuel runs out, or when they’re ordered to shoot civilians . . . I think they’ll start to leave. For them, everything will boil down to loyalty. Not all the Soldiers have family on Fort Hood. And once it appears that the command is willing to throw them under the bus, they’ll leave en mass,” said Pete.
“You think so?” said John. “Maybe you’re right. I guess only time will tell.” As a student of military history, John was very aware of how Soldiers, or men-at-arms, from across the span of time, could react to issues of conflicting loyalties. He didn’t know how the Soldiers would act, but he did know it would depend a lot on their leadership. “I’m just glad you went to check it out. I would have wondered about it if you hadn’t,” said John, as he looked at Pete. “You mentioned something about seeing an angel in the cab of your truck . . . a messenger. Someone who warned you to prepare for the overpass.”
“Yeah, that was really weird. It was so real I thought I was awake when it happened. But then I woke up and realized I was asleep,” said Pete, as he looked at John with equal interest and intensity.
“In your dream, did the boy happen to give you his name?” asked John, as he leaned forward in the chair opposite of Pete.
“Eli,” said Pete. “I believe he said his name was, Eli.” John stood up and quickly sat back down. “Does that name mean something to you?” asked Pete, clearly concerned about his friend’s reaction.
John was silent, unable to speak or articulate a rational response for Pete.
Eli visited Pete? He must have. He gave Pete a warning, and set into motion an entire sequence of events that ultimately led to Pete’s safe arrival here
. John didn’t know what to make of it. He brought the palms of his hands to his forehead and lowered them over his face in a long slow draw, ending with his fingertips resting over his mouth and chin. “Yes,” said John, as he drew his hands away from his face and placed them on his lap, “You can say that.”
“How’s that?” asked Pete.
“Well, let’s just say Eli has visited me several times.”
“What?” it was Pete’s turn to be surprised, though he didn’t rise from his chair, or run his hands down his face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I have also seen Eli, and actually talked to him. Can you describe him for me again, but in greater detail?” asked John. Pete described the messenger, and John knew it had to be his Eli. “Yup, it’s the same messenger all right,” said John. He absentmindedly brushed at his left ear to address a light tickling sensation. It felt as if someone was tickling his ear with a piece of grass. John turned his head to look quickly behind him, and then scratched his ear once again.
“What does it all mean, John?” asked Pete.
John could tell Pete was very interested in hearing more, but John wasn’t sure he was ready to reveal more, at least not until he had a chance to talk to Eli. “I’ll be right back,” said John, and he stood and pushed through the French doors, “I have to check on something first. Let’s call a short break. I’ll be back in a couple minute.” John walked away without giving Pete a chance to comment and went to his bedroom. He shut the door and sat on the edge of his bed. After a moment of quiet thought, he kicked off his shoes and laid down.
He allowed himself to relax, using the meditative birthing technique that he recently learned from Jenna. He hadn’t tried it yet, but
he didn’t know any other way to meditate. Since it was his only option, he followed the steps and tried to remember how it felt when he was pulled out of his body. It helped that he knew Sarrif wanted to talk to him, but he knew he had to do it on his own.