Lamp Black: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 2) (68 page)

“Well, he’s not Pete, if that’s what you mean. Do you think maybe Paul feels a little left out? I mean, he’s not a Soldier. He doesn’t think and talk like you guys. Maybe he feels threatened by your friendship with Pete?”

“I don’t know. He was acting strange before Pete showed up.”

“John, you’re an imposing guy. You intimidate people without intending to do so.”

John nodded and said, “I’ll work on building a better connection with Paul. But in the meantime, I think I’ll shower. Care to join me?”

“Sure, if you agree to scrub my back,” said Jenna.

“What? I was offering to share a shower as a way to conserve water and energy. How’d a back scrub come into play?”

Jenna tossed her book on the bed and ran to John. She punched him playfully on the shoulder. “Fine, but wait and see what that back scrubbing will pay in dividends, mister smarty-pants,” said Jenna. She tried to enter the bathroom before John, but he reached out, grabbed her hand, and turned her around for a kiss.

“I love you, Jenna,” said John.

“I love you too,” replied Jenna, as she took John by the hand and led him to the shower.

John opened his eyes and saw Eli standing over him. He stood up and said, “Hello, Eli, it’s good to see you again.” John turned and saw Sarrif standing at the foot of his bed. “Sarrif,” said John, as he nodded to his friend in greeting. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, gentlemen?”

“There’s something I’ve been tasked to show you,” said Eli. “Are you ready?”

“Very,” said John. He turned to look at Jenna and saw himself lying in the bed next to her. He still wasn’t used to seeing himself out-of-body, it was a little upsetting, so he quickly turned away. He looked at Eli and said, “So, what’s on the agenda? Oh, and thanks for the heads-up about the storm. I really appreciate it,” finished John.

“It’s what we’re here for, Papa. Here, take my hand.” John reached out for Eli’s hand and as soon as they touched they instantly jumped
several thousand feet into the sky above John’s house. “I thought you would like to see what’s going on around you before we go,” said Eli.

John did, indeed, want to see what was going on around him. He saw that the rain had stopped and he looked up. Stars shined brightly through the shimmering twilight above, and long ribbons of green light weaved about in the upper atmosphere. “Is that the aurora borealis?” asked John.

“The northern lights, well, not exactly. Texas hasn’t moved,” replied Eli, playfully. “But it is aurora. The eruption has resulted in some very unique conditional changes to the earth’s environment, to include a shift in the magnetic field. But the tiny particles in the upper atmosphere are responsible for creating their own unique effect on the environment. It will be a long and cold winter for you this year,” finished Eli.

John turned his gaze downward and saw many fires burning below him. There was no electrical power, but he could make out the Dallas and Fort Worth skylines in the distance. They were strangely lit, back-lit even, by several large fires that burnt freely in, and around them. “Would you like a closer look?” asked Eli.

“No,” replied John. “What caused the fires?”

“The lightning storm caused a few of the smaller ones, but the larger ones were started by people. The high winds kept them alive, fueled their expansion even,” said Eli. John noticed that Eli delivered his report without emotion, but John realized that he, too, was without emotion. For some reason it didn’t bother him that two of Texas’ biggest cities were engulfed in flames, and that her streets were overrun with violence and destruction.

“Come, I have one more thing to show you before we leave this area,” said Eli. He took John’s hand and they jumped to a dusty, rundown barroom. In the bar, amid several burning propane lanterns that hung from exposed wood rafters, sat a group of denim and leather-clad men. It was a biker gang, and they appeared to be holding some kind of meeting. John couldn’t hear their words, but the man doing
the talking was large and heavily tattooed. He held a machete in his right hand, and was banging the pommel of the long bladed weapon repeatedly onto the surface of the pool table. After what appeared to be a roar, the big man quickly turned and buried the dark blade into an exposed wooden support beam near him.

“Why can’t I hear them?” asked John.

“Because it’s offensive, and it’s not necessary. But you will know what to do with this information.”

John scanned the faces of the group. He silently counted those who were present. There were sixteen men and seven women. He was almost ready to leave when he saw her, another woman, sitting alone in a dark corner. It was Luanne. Her lip was split, and her right cheek bruised and swollen, but it was her, John was sure of it. He never forgot a face. “So, she made it after all,” said John. “She reconnected with her biker buddies, and now they’re planning a little pay-back.”

Eli nodded and said, “Are you ready to go. This is the reason I came to you tonight. It’s the most important thing for you to see.”

John said, “I’m ready,” and reached out to take Eli’s hand.

John and Eli jumped again, and they came to a stop some fifty meters in the air above a small, two-lane road that ran perpendicular to a larger four-lane freeway. A light layer of snow blanketed the ground around them, but no heavy snow bearing clouds were in the sky. Early morning sunlight reflected off the white blankets to either side of him, casting sharp spikes of light in his eyes.

John looked up and saw, high above him in the upper atmosphere, several long trails of clouds that streaked boldly across the azure sky. They looked as if an artist had rendered them with the bold strokes of his brush. John knew he was in a pre-disaster time frame. Since the eruption some six days previous, blue was not the color of the sky. He turned to Eli and asked, “When is this?”

“This is two weeks before the eruption,” answered Eli.

John looked below and saw a long line of stationary traffic. He followed the line of cars and trucks and noticed the freeway was closed,
everyone was sitting in their cars on the side of the road, waiting for it to reopen. He noticed a barrier had been lowered over the freeway, and that a single Wyoming State Trooper had parked his cruiser in front of the barrier as if to watch over it. “Where are we?”

“You are on the western edge of Cheyenne Wyoming. That is Interstate-80,” replied Eli, pointing to the freeway below.

“What am I to see here?” asked John.

“You will soon see,” said Eli.

“Is that a military installation?” asked John, looking behind him to the north east.

“It is,” said Eli. “That is Warren Air Force Base, home of the 90th Missile Wing,” answered Eli. It was then that John heard the sound of a helicopter. He looked around and spotted a UH-1, a Huey, as the army called them. They were no longer in the army’s inventory, but the air force apparently found them useful. The helicopter made a very distinct chopping sound when it flew through the air, and John watched with interest as it gained altitude only to assume an unusually low flight path. The helicopter was no more than a thousand feet off the ground, and it was heading directly toward John and Eli.

In the distance, the sound of multiple sirens filled the air. John looked down, and on the two-lane road below him, he saw a four-vehicle military convoy rapidly approaching. The military police convoy screamed past the stationary vehicles, and John saw many curious faces take in the unusual scene. John was also curious, and studied the event with interest. He noticed the first vehicle was an Air Force Security Police pickup. It was followed by two MRAPs, the heavy-duty, four-wheeled, Mine Resistant Ambush Protected armored vehicles John himself used while in Iraq. They were followed by a single up-armored Humvee. John also noticed that every vehicle, but the pickup, was equipped with a roof-mounted, crew-served, weapon. An alert Airman stood ready in each turret.

At first, John thought it was an exercise, like a quick reaction drill, but the small, fast moving convoy continued to hold his interest as
it passed under the interstate and turned left, heading east on I-80. He was about to ask Eli, for a second time, why he was here, when he heard yet more sirens. A second convoy was fast approaching, with blue lights flashing and sirens wailing. But this time, the convoy was different. In the middle of the convoy there rolled, like some large sacred cow, a specially designed tractor-trailer rig surrounded by several more MRAPs. The truck’s cab was of a design unfamiliar to John, but it was obviously armored. Behind it was pulled a large white trailer. As it passed beneath him, John noticed that the trailer had a strange, butterfly-like shape door on the side. Three more armed MRAPs followed the trailer. John turned to Eli and asked, “What was in that trailer?”

“What do you think was in that trailer,” asked Eli in return.

“A nuclear warhead?” asked John.

“That would be a very good guess,” replied Eli.

Less than a minute later, another convoy screamed by. It was the third and final convoy, similar to the first, except it had a large, black, armored car rolling near the back. John was certain it contained a Special Response Team. It looked like any big city SWAT vehicle, except it was unmarked, and apparently tailored specifically for special Air Force missions. “Well, that was interesting,” said John.

Eli held out his hand and they jumped again. This time, John found himself standing in a well-lit service bay. Unfamiliar equipment, electronics, and special tools filled the space in carts and sat on tables around him. John watched as a man, dressed in white protective clothing and equipment, worked under the supervision of two other men. The man seemed to be inspecting the interior components of a strange looking device that sat mounted to a specially designed support structure.

“When and where are we now?” asked John.

“We have moved to three days before the convoy, but this is the same nuclear warhead that passed us by on the road a few moments ago,” replied Eli.

“What am I to see here that’s important?” asked John.

“That man is sabotaging the nuclear device. He is setting it up to explode while it is in its underground silo,” replied Eli.

“What!” said John, “How can he do that? Aren’t those men supposed to be watching him?”

“Yes, they are watching him,” replied Eli, “but they don’t see what he is doing. They have no reason to suspect he’s inappropriately tampering with that nuclear device because he has worked on them for many years. They trust him,” finished Eli.

“But who would want to do such a thing?”

“That is not the correct question,” replied Eli.

“Then what is the correct question?” asked John.

“Come,” said Eli, as he held out his hand to John. John took Eli’s hand and they were immediately lifted high above the ground. John watched as everything sped up around him. The sun and moon rose and fell, and then rose and fell again, over and over, quickly, passing overhead in a kaleidoscope of color and movement. The clouds also came and went as time accelerated, faster and faster. Then, when John was about to inquire of Eli once again, a huge wall of ash approached and moved past them, snuffing out all the lights below. The city of Cheyenne was gone, buried under mountains of ash.

John couldn’t tell if time had returned to normal speed, but as he watched he saw several small fires appear and twinkle against the dark gray matted landscape below. “Are we still above Cheyenne?” asked John.

Eli nodded. He then pointed and said, “Watch . . . over there.”

John followed Eli’s hand and looked. Far below, a bright flash of light illuminated the dreary darkness of the ash filled night. Like a bright star, the flash blossomed outward from its center in a clean circle of energy until it reached its limits and then turned its attention skyward. John watched as the unmistakable shape of a large mushroom cloud appeared below, roiling upward as if gasping for breath. Moments later another flash occurred, followed by another, and
another. John stopped counting when he reached seven nuclear explosions. He turned and looked at Eli with surprise.

“Do you know what you see?” asked Eli.

“I do,” said John, “the world as we know it has officially come to an end.”

AUTHOR’S ENDNOTE

B
e sure to follow John’s survival story as it continues. In Compass Call, scheduled for release in December, 2014, John and his small group of survivors will face many new and life threatening challenges in their own neighborhood. With the ash significantly reduced following a major storm, a semi clear sky offers their neighbors hope of rescue and a return to normalcy, but that hope is short lived for the dangers around them are now also much more apparent.

As people begin to emerge from their homes following a three-day self-imposed environmental time-out, they’re hungry and thirsty. Neighbors venture out in search of food and water, only to find they are surrounded by chaos. The neighborhood homeowner’s association president steps up to offer ideas and personal agenda, but when John becomes the center of his attention things go from bad to worse. Unable to convince his neighbors that he’s as poorly prepared as they are, John makes plans to leave the neighborhood for safer grounds. But before he leaves, the group will face unimaginable threats and challenges.