The Journal: Crimson Skies: (The Journal Book 3) (11 page)

“What’s the incubation timetable?” Mark
asked.

“Quick, maybe twelve hours, sometimes longer;
it depends on the person.”

“Wow that is quick. Mortality rate?”

Jim hesitated. “About seventy-five percent.
There are some with a natural immunity, and there’s no rhyme or
reason behind that. There have been a few that have recovered, but
that’s small in numbers.”

“Has it been verified how it’s spread?”

“That’s the tricky part. It seems the
delivery varies. It’s airborne, yet it can also be transmitted by
touch, so multiple methods of protection are being observed.”

“I guess we all stay out of Marquette now,” I
murmured.

“What’s going to happen to Marlow?” Eric
asked.

Colonel Andrews looked at Eric with a weighty
gaze, noting there was no rank attached to Marlow’s name, and then
took sip of his drink. “Hank Marlow is sitting in a jail cell,
waiting for his court martial. I assure you, the trial will be just
as swift as the one for his minions. He will then be executed for
treason.” Another sip. “Much of our breakthrough came from that
soldier you captured, Ken Krause. It seems Marlow filled him and a
handful of others with a great deal of propaganda regarding Moose
Creek and your group in particular, Allexa. Krause was told you
were a band of terrorists bent on taking over Marquette, and that
you had slaughtered a convoy of humanitarians bringing Moose Creek
much needed aid last winter.”

That revelation left everyone speechless.

“When I explained to him the truth behind the
lies, he actually wept, and he sends his deepest apologies. I can’t
fault him for following orders, so I’m sending him back to
Virginia,” the colonel finished. “I wish I could kill Marlow twice
for all the sorrow he’s caused, but one execution will have to
do.”

The colonel went back to his vehicle and
pulled a heavy box from the back seat. “I almost forgot, here are
those books you were interested in, Doctor.”

“Books?”

“The ones on animals. I had someone familiar
with the University library get as many books on veterinary
medicine and animal physiology as he could find. Hope they’re
useful.”

Mark’s eyes glowed as he accepted the
box.

It was late in the evening when everyone
left, and the artificial darkness hung like a dirty curtain in the
approaching dusk.

August 23

The next earthquake to rock the nation hit
around noon and was felt all the way up the East Coast. The Florida
Keys, precarious as they were, were the first to go. Aerial videos
taken by a tourist on a plane ride out of Marathon Key captured the
swaying Seven Mile Bridge as the pylons buckled and collapsed,
snapping the long concrete bridge into several pieces and sending
afternoon travelers to the bottom of the blue-green ocean.

The speculation for now is that movement from
the Puerto Rico Trench was responsible for dislocating the delicate
subterranean structure that held Florida afloat
.

“
Picture, if you will, a two-story
dollhouse made of toothpicks, and someone bumped the table,”
one seismologist explained.
“Florida sits on a bed of coral, and
coral is porous and therefore fragile. One nudge of the table could
easily push it off its foundation
.”

The bump was recorded at 7.8 on the Richter
scale, followed an hour later by a powerful aftershock. The 8.2
aftershock that hit Florida was recorded at 1:15 in the afternoon
and quickly downgraded to an 8.0. In the process, everything from
Fort Lauderdale to Naples and south of Alligator Alley was now
covered with several feet of seawater, putting half of the
Everglades completely underwater. News-crew helicopters recorded a
mass stampede of alligators, large snakes, panthers, and other
wildlife heading for drier land. In Miami, the only buildings
visible were those over four stories tall, which included most of
the vacation hotels along the Atlantic. Rescue efforts were
underway for those lucky enough to have been in or made it to the
upper floors. The resulting fast moving tsunami wiped the crowded
beaches clean on what was a clear and sunny day. There had been no
estimates on the death toll.

~~~

I turned the television off and we sat there
watching the glow of the plasma screen fade. Neither of us spoke
for a long time.

“Do you believe in God, Mark?”

“I was raised within a church, so my belief
is there, yes. However, it’s hard to comprehend how a merciful
being would allow such merciless things to happen.” He tightened
his hold on me, and shuddered into my neck. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, we’ve been married all of three weeks
and though we have known of each other for four months, I really
don’t know much about you, or you about me.”

“True, but I know you’re a good person,
Allexa. You’ve got strong morals and a deep sense of right and
wrong, all of which you’ve passed on to those young men across the
street. How you did that on your own makes you a remarkable woman.
And the most important thing I know is that I love you.” He smiled
and kissed me gently. I sighed and snuggled closer.

“Do
you
believe in God?” Mark
asked.

“I don’t know, Mark. I did at one time, but I
have such doubts now,” I answered honestly. “There are so many
beautiful things on this planet that it’s hard not to want some
greater Being to thank. Yet…” I hesitated, “yet I believe most bad
things that happen are a result of our own fault. Why would a
creator of such beautiful things destroy what He’s built? What
would be the purpose?

“All of these horrific earthquakes and
disasters in the past year can’t be just natural happenings can
they? Did man trigger these events with fracking and mining and
nuclear testing? I think for some it’s easier to have a belief in
God so there’s someone to
blame
for the bad things. It’s
typical human arrogance to not take responsibility for our
actions.

“It took me a long time to come to terms with
myself and my responsibilities with this life I have. If I do
something wrong or that causes pain, I accept that, even if only to
myself. I don’t shift the blame onto anyone if indeed it was
something I did. And that’s what I believe is at the core: someone
has done something at some point in time to set off a chain
reaction. I think when I got to that understanding is when I lost
faith. There was no one left to blame, or to thank, except myself
or another human, not some mystical unseen entity.”

“Then you don’t think it’s only Mother Nature
rebelling?”

“Giving credence to a Mother Nature is
acknowledging yet another entity that has more control than you do.
It’s like blaming Mother Nature for wiping out your house with a
flood, and then rebuilding on the same flood plain, only to get
wiped out again. Blame Mother Nature instead of moving to a safer
place. So no, Mother Nature isn’t rebelling; the Earth is reacting
not acting. Rebelling is a conscious act. When someone cuts a tree
down, is the tree rebelling by falling on them? No, the person
either cut the tree wrong, or failed to get out of the way.”

JOURNAL ENTRY: August 25

The aftershocks continue. The most recent was a 7.5,
and with the subterranean infrastructure already shattered, the
damage was the worse yet. From Orlando to Tampa Bay a rift has
formed five miles wide, closing off any overland relief efforts for
the devastated lower half of Florida. There is no solid ground for
helicopters to land on and all rescues are now done by boat. The
airboats that once populated only the Everglades are currently the
main mode of transportation between the smatterings of tiny islands
that now exist. The trapped population has turned near vicious in
their quest for a spot on any passing boat, often capsizing the
vessels of several good Samaritans and spilling their frightened
human cargo into the muddy, predator infested waters.

With more than fifty percent of Florida
uninhabitable now and covered with varying depths of saltwater, the
fresh water mammals, reptiles, and avian life have all fled to
higher ground looking for a new habitat and… food.

The exodus of the mass and aging population of
Florida into Georgia and Alabama is now creating an overload on
services and supplies in those states. The movement of people from
the West Coast to the eastern side of the Continental Divide
continues to overwhelm the government agencies in the Midwest. The
only states not being invaded by our own population are those with
extreme winter weather.

For as difficult as our lives are now, I continue to
be thankful for where we live.

September 1

“Allexa, I want to keep you updated on this
virus,” Tom White said when I answered my phone that was ringing
with ‘The Hall of the Mountain King’ dirge. Was it really only ten
months ago I got that call from Liz Anderson with the same ring
tone?

“Colonel Andrews said it was getting worse,
Tom.”

“Yes, it’s like a ghost town here. Of course,
with the price of gas, there’s little traffic anyway.” I could hear
the familiar shuffle of papers and smiled to myself, thinking of
more normal times. “The hospital is triaging in the lobby, there’s
so many. There’s little they can do except keep everyone as
comfortable as possible. They either fight it and live, or fight it
and die.”

“Where are they putting everyone?”

He sighed, loudly. “The elderly that come in
are moved one floor up. The mortality rate is really high with
anyone over sixty-five, almost ninety percent. That floor has the
most service elevators available for… body removal. Children have
the next floor to accommodate parents staying with them. The
parents are often sick and given a bed too. The staff is trying to
keep families together, it makes for easier identification.”

I could hear the pain in his voice.

“How are
you
feeling, Tom?” I asked,
knowing his wife and young son died in the first sweep of this
virus late last winter.

“A bit rundown, tired, not eating right; you
know, normal,” he chuckled. “I’m also staying isolated, though, so
I should be fine. Which is actually one of the reasons I called. I
think it advisable for your group to stay out of Marquette. And
before you deny anything, I know some of you have snuck into town
and hit the yard sales. Word gets around,” he added before I could
protest.

“I understand, Tom. I will make sure everyone
knows we’re under self-imposed quarantine. You do know that some of
our forays have been to spread some money around,” I replied. “I’m
surprised the economy has lasted this long and I’d rather scatter
this cash while we can and others can take advantage of what little
value it has left.”

“I understand what you’ve been doing, and
that’s why I want you to stop. You’re a good person, Allex, and no
one wants anything to happen to you.”

~~~

We finally had a break in the ever-present
depressing ash-cloud cover. The sun came out and warmed the air to
a delightful seventy degrees. I took the opportunity to hang sheets
out on the clothesline and to work in the garden some.

“Do you think there will be much of a
harvest, Mom?” Eric asked as he worked the hoe down the rows of
stunted corn.

“Certainly not what we might hope for, and
since those ears are forming so well, we might get a few to eat.
Most will have to be saved for planting next year, though. And when
you’re done hoeing, don’t forget to knock the stalks against each
other.” I went back to weeding the peas.

“Do you really think that helps pollinate
them?”

“Sure can’t hurt.”

While the garden in the yard looks paltry for
September, it had a decent head start before the ash fall hit. We
might get some corn and peas. The root crops, potatoes, beets, and
rutabaga are doing much better than I expected. What is really
going to sustain us this winter are the greenhouse crops. The green
beans are close to picking at a mature size and will keep producing
for another six weeks. After that, I’ll replant and maybe we will
have fresh beans all winter. The bin I had set aside for compost
now holds potatoes that might give Jacob his fries and Emilee her
chips.

September 2

“Mom,” Eric said, bursting in the back door,
“you’re not going to believe this, but we just came from the Resort
and it’s like the ash never touched it!”

“There was no one at the gate, so we cut the
chain and went in,” Jason cut in. “I thought we might be able to
find some old manual tools at the compound, but what we found was
even better… deer. A lot of deer. And moose, turkeys, and geese.
I’m guessing all the stampeding we witnessed in July was the
animals heading to safer ground.”

“That’s incredible,” I said with awe. “We
must have truly been on the very edge of the cloud, and that’s why
it moved away so quickly.” My mind was reeling with possibilities.
“Did you find any people?”

“There wasn’t anyone at the compound, though
we did see a smoke signature that might be from Mathers Lake. We
didn’t check it out, because we thought you might like to go with
us for that,” Jason said.

“We did, however, do some harvesting,” Eric
grinned. In the back of the pick-up truck was a six-point buck and
two wild turkeys.

The thought of fresh meat made my mouth
water. I also thought of all the lives that could have been saved
by moving just ten miles north.

“What’s all the commotion?” Mark asked,
emerging from the sheltered deck where he spends his time reading.
He’s been engrossed in all the books Jim had dropped off last week,
and I know he’s thrilled with the new knowledge he’s gaining on
taking care of the animals.